


and i broke my heart in two (one for me, one for you)

by colorfullysarah



Series: and you'll find love etched into your heart [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (I genuinely appreciate that's a tag), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Angst, Healthy communication alert!!!!, Insecure Katsuki Yuuri, Insecure Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The angst isn't too heavy I promise, They try their best to be open and honest with each other, because they both just want to be happy ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfullysarah/pseuds/colorfullysarah
Summary: “Yes, Yuuri,” he says and moves to brush his lips across Yuuri’s temple.He can’t bring himself to pull away yet. Pulling away would mean he’ll have to go back to his room and sleep alone knowing that a few floors down the man whose Words he has on his chest is asleep.“I’ll be yours for as long you want me to be.”A silence settles over them then and he wonders if Yuuri finally fell asleep but when he pulls away Yuuri is looking at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen and he finds himself hopelessly lost in those eyes. Yuuri reaches up after a moment and caresses his cheeks with a kind of reverence that leaves him breathless.“Forever then,” Yuuri murmurs.. . .Or a soulmate au where they meet, Viktor's immediately smitten, mistakes are made along the way and they discover that even though fate brought them together, love isn't easy but oh is it worth it.





	and i broke my heart in two (one for me, one for you)

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adore soulmate AUs, what can I say I'm a big ol' romantic at heart. And of course, I had to write one for my favorite boys of all time. This fic turned out _waaaaaaaaay_ longer than I initially thought it would be. It was just meant to just help me get over some writer's block I have for my other fics and somehow it turned into this monster. #whoops
> 
> (Seriously, this was supposed to be like 5k maximum but look at it now and there are still so many scenes I wanted to include but couldn't manage to fit in.)
> 
> On a little more serious note, there a scene in this fic where Yuuri and Viktor talk about their mental illnesses. It's nothing too heavy but it's incredibly important to their journey of learning each other and falling in love. (Both in this fic and the show.)
> 
> So, just a heads up about that in case it's something that'll you'll possibly want to be aware of and prepare yourself for.
> 
> I relate so much to both Yuuri's struggles with anxiety and Viktor's struggles with depression because I can see my own experiences and struggles in them and I definitely cried, repeatedly, over how wonderfully they were handled in the show. It's so important to surround yourself with people who will support you and even though Viktor and Yuuri both make mistakes along the way they never once think less of each other and that's such a beautiful, beautiful thing.
> 
> And on a lighter note, there are like two sentences in Japanese and one in Russian. 
> 
> I only know the basics in both languages so apologies if there are errors (and if there are please don't hesitate to correct me). If you are on a desktop just hover over the sentences and the translation will appear, if you're mobile they'll be found in the end note. :)
> 
> I tried my best to capture the heart of the show in this fic and I sincerely hope I did it justice and that you enjoy. <3

 

 _if you were born with_  
_the weakness to fall_  
_you were born with_  
_the strength to rise_

-  **rupi kaur**

 

 

_Dance with me, Viktor!_

Four simple words etched just below his right collarbone since he was four years old. He remembered the first time he noticed them, delicate and a whisper of what they would become as he grew older.

He remembered the excitement and joy that washed through him as he scrambled out of his room shouting for his parents.

He remembered his mama’s gentle smile as she crouched down and let her fingers graze the blossoming words.

But most of all he remembered her words: “I hope you’ll get to meet them, solnyshko.”

 

. . .

 

He’s ten years old when he learns that First Words aren’t always uttered out loud. Why sometimes they turn a bitter gray instead of a deep black.

His teacher explains to them what the different colors of First Words mean and he realizes with horror that he’s seen gray etched onto skin before, seen the whisper of unsaid words. As soon as the school day ends he rushes home with tears in his eyes and his mama’s familiar yet gentle smile tugs at her lips.

“It’s true. We aren’t soulmates. Both of ours died before we could meet them,” she explains patiently as if she always expected him to ask. “First Words don’t keep death away until they’re finally said. Sometimes a person’s soulmate can be taken away long before they ever get to say their Words.”

He weeps because his parents deserved to hear their Words.

He weeps because he’s afraid that maybe his Words will turn gray too.

He weeps because life can be cruel.

“Oh, Vitya, please don’t cry. Our life is wonderful and full of love even if we never got to meet the people whose words we have written into our skin.”

 

. . .

 

He learns to live with the fear that maybe he’ll never get to hear the Words he sees in the mirror every morning. Learns to channel that emotion into his skating because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. Because the alternative of actually facing his fears sounds as appealing as doing his homework as soon as he gets home from school.

Somewhere along the way though, his fear morphs into something new with each gold medal he wins and before he can completely comprehend it, he’s handed his heart over to the ice.

It’ll be safer there, he tells himself. Safer because the ice can’t leave him, will always welcome him without any hesitation and so he lets it consume him until his body learns to crave the harsh bite of cold every time he falls.

“Viktor Nikiforov is the Junior World Champion!”

“Viktor Nikiforov has just broken the free skate world record!”

“Viktor Nikiforov, the Living Legend, just secured his fourth consecutive win in the Grand Prix Finals!”

The cameras flash bright and fast and it leaves him nearly blinded but he’s had plenty of practice at this point and his smile never wavers. The Press move forward, bodies desperate for any scrap of information he’ll be willing to throw their way.

“Viktor! Your costumes for the last three seasons haven’t shown off your First Words, is there a reason for that?”

First Words are to be cherished. They’re sacred and precious but those boundaries were blurred and forgotten the moment he became a household name.

His smile doesn’t budge but it does turn a little sharp as he leans away from the mic, a clear indication to the hyenas in the room that he won’t answer such a personal question.

He’s never answered questions about his soulmate after he wins a competition, the Words on his chest are private and while sometimes his costumes reveal the Words he’s not the only skater that’s showed them off. Nor will he be the last but because he’s the best they no longer care about the scared boy he’s desperately hidden beneath layers and layers of charm and charisma over the years.

It’s obvious what the reporter is after, what they’re all hungry for. Has he met his soulmate yet and if so who were they? Or has the worst happened and his soulmate died before the Words could be said?

When he arrives to his dark, empty apartment he wonders if it’s his destiny to watch his Words turn gray, a family curse passed down through each generation. Even his mother’s warm smile when she come for a visit two days later can’t ease the fear.

 

. . .

 

He's twenty-five when he starts to wonder if the ice is really the best place for his heart. Somehow everything has shifted without his awareness for the second time. The ice fells distant in a way he never anticipated and nothing he does seems to bring back the joy he used to feel whenever he glided across it.

“Vitya, are you happy?”

His papa’s voice is firm as he stands in his living room, his bags long tucked into the guest bedroom where his mama is taking a nap after their day out. It’s the off season but he continues to practice as though a competition is only a matter of weeks away instead of months.

He doesn’t know how else to live.

“I don’t know,” he whispers and it’s the truth.

Even well into his fifties, his father seems to move as though he’s still a young man on the ice. Powerful and strong and graceful all at once as he chases after the puck. So, he isn’t surprised when his papa’s grip is almost bruising in its concern as he’s turned around to look up into familiar blue eyes.

He knows they worry and he wishes he could reassure them but they would see through any lie he’d try to sell them. They know what happiness looks like on him and so it’s pointless to try and fake it.

His papa sighs.

“Promise me when you find it again you won’t run away from it. Your life in this sport will end one day and we can’t bear the thought of seeing you suffer once it does.”

He promises but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.

 

. . .

 

A long time ago, when he was barely a teenager and had just started to win in the Junior Division a reporter shoved a microphone in his face after the Russian Junior Nationals competition and asked: “Do you really think Russia will stand behind you even though you’re a Slush?”

His eyes had widened and Yakov snarled something nasty above him. The footage never aired and his parents never knew the slur had been thrown at him so callously.

Most Russians knew better than to say the word aloud, most had more tact to keep it to themselves. Even so, he always knew when people would think it of him. He would see it form in their mind when they would glance and see the gray Words on his parents skin, the wedding rings on their right hands and his perfect blend of their features.

 

. . .

 

The new skating season arrives and with it he fails to capture the happiness that the ice once had given him. He still loves it, that will never go away no matter how distant it becomes. Over twenty years of his life has been dedicated to it, the same way his papa’s had been so long ago now.

So no matter how empty he feels on the inside he skates and he breezes through the qualifying competitions with ease.

He wonders if maybe this is it, the last season he’ll ever skate. The audience is no longer surprised by him and sometimes he catches himself thinking during practices that they’d only be surprised by him again if he lost or just up and retired in the middle of a season.

But every time those thoughts cross his mind he takes one glance at Yakov and knows his coach would drag him back to the ice by his ear if need be. Yakov knows the only way he’ll ever leave this sport is when his body will no longer allow him to perform at his peak.

“I don’t know what to do, mama,” he whispers, hiding away from everyone in some storage closet just before Yuri’s Junior GPF Short Program. “I can’t keep skating like this but I can’t stop either. I don’t know how to fix what’s broken in me.”

His confession is met with silence until finally -  

“Solnyshko, there’s nothing broken inside you,” and unlike every other time in his life her gentle tone doesn’t soothe the aches and pains. “Your soul is simply telling you that it’s time to stop ignoring the life that’s waiting for you outside the rink and competitions. It’s time to love more than the ice.”

Now it’s his turn to fall silent.

How can he love more than the ice when his Words are still a soft beige against his chest? How can he when everyone seems to think he’s untouchable, who look at him with awe-filled eyes and stuttering lips as they sing his praises but never bother to look past the medals?

Love off the ice seems so unattainable.

“But my Words -”

“There is more to life and love than the Words written on your chest. Love doesn’t have to be found in a person, the world is full of so many beautiful things and you’ve seen so little of it, Viktor.”

The words startle a shaky, broken breath from his lungs.  

 

. . .

 

_Non lo so dove andrò_

As the first words of the song drift through the rink the audience fades away until he only registers the poignant notes and his steady breath.

_Ancora no_

The words barrel through his heart in tender desperation to reach his soul and his body reacts, is graceful as he spins and flies through the air.

_Vado dove vai tu._

Distantly, he’s aware that everyone who watches can’t rip their eyes away from him even if the world outside began to end as they knew it. But none of that matters because this performance isn’t for them, it had been born in the middle of a St. Petersburg summer night as he tried to find himself again.

_Stammi vicino…_

The gold medal hangs heavy around his neck, like a weight that wants to drag him down to his knees as if to humble him among those who view him a God.

He doesn’t think he would stop himself from falling if it tried.

 

. . .

 

It feels like a gentle caress across the back of his neck, like a lover’s lips waking him up in the morning, and he barely refrains from startling when he feels a jolt run down his spine as a result. He looks over his shoulder and warm, honey brown eyes reel him in. A feeling nags at the back of his mind that he knows who this man is but he can’t seem to grasp a name in his hands.

“Commemorative photo? Sure thing!”

 

. . .

 

“You’ll wrinkle your suit if you stay like that.”

He barely bites back a rather unattractive groan as he pushes himself up onto his elbows and shoots an annoyed look at Chris. Leon snorts somewhere behind his friend as he finishes getting ready for the banquet.

Chris is totally unfazed by his expression and simply shrugs as he works on his tie. “You’ll whine about it later so I’m just trying to help you out. What’s got you so down anyway?”

Leon pops his head out from the bathroom to say, “Probably because this banquet will be as boring as the last one? Why do you think I drink at least a bottle of champagne on my own? I love you Chris, but this part of your career is dreadful.”

There’s a snort of laughter from Chris and Leon looks fondly exasperated and he feels amusement flicker in his chest as he watches his two friends. At least until his eyes catch Leon’s Words on his bare wrist, sharp, crisp and black against pale skin.

Jealousy is an ugly thing and isn’t an emotion he allows himself to wallow in often.

But it twists sharply in his chest anyway.

 

. . .

 

“Make sure to talk to all your sponsors tonight, Vitya. And I mean _all_ of them this time.”

He refrains from rolling his eyes at Yakov’s reminder, as if he really needs it but Yura stands to the left already in a foul mood even though they only just arrived. Ah, well if Yakov wants to use him as an example then he can only perform. So, he smiles and tips his glass of champagne towards his coach in a mock toast.

Yakov simply rolls his eyes and turns to find the other coaches to talk to for the rest of the night.

Really though, it isn’t like his sponsors give him much of a choice and he often wonders if they all agree to swindle him into boring conversations in a particular order before the banquet even begins.

He’s in the middle of sipping his champagne when he feels that sensation on the back of his neck again and he nearly chokes on the bubbly drink as he desperately looks around without appearing completely wild in his search.

It takes only a few seconds for his gaze to zero in on the same man who had walked away from him earlier that day and -

“Yuuri has the right idea about tonight,” Chris says with amusement from beside him. “This banquet is somehow worse than last years and I didn’t think that was even possible.”

 _Yuuri_.

Before he can ask Chris the numerous question that have suddenly flooded his mind he’s pulled into another mind-numbing conversation with an ISU official and his smile has never felt faker as he turns away.

 

. . .

 

The night rapidly transforms after Yuuri seemingly has had enough of the dull banquet and he can’t stop the genuine laughter that bubbles up his throat as he watches Yuuri and Yura break dance in some ridiculous dance-off.

It becomes quickly apparent to everyone who forms a loose circle around the two skaters that Yuuri was a dancer long before he stepped onto the ice. Even though the kind of dance the two skaters were performing requires sharp, stuttered movements Yuuri transitions from one move to the next with the kind of grace every skater at the banquet dreams of having.

He’s completely transfixed.

Their battle comes to its inevitable end and Yura snarls at the older Yuuri before stomping off to no doubt sulk in some corner.

Yuuri just blinks at the suddenly empty space Yura had occupied before slowly looking around as if he’s searching for someone in particular.

And when those honey, brown eyes land on him his breath catches in his chest as he watches Yuuri’s face light up in a bright, happy smile.

“Dance with me, Viktor!”

If he had been holding onto a flute of champagne it would have shattered against the floor the moment Yuuri’s finished speaking and he felt the searing warmth take over the Words on his chest.

This isn’t the first time he’s heard his Words shouted at him. Fans from all over the world who were desperate to be the one who’s his soulmate would shout them at him after competitions, during the quiet moments right before a performance but none of them had ever triggered the Change.

It’s almost completely silent as everyone registers what Yuuri said as well. And if whatever music the DJ’s playing wasn’t soft in the background he’s positive a pin could be dropped and it would echo across the room. Before anyone can properly piece together what they just witnessed Yuuri bounces over, grabs his hands and tugs him into the center of the circle.

His _soulmate_ isn’t deterred in the slightest by the fact he’s practically frozen in shock as he spins them around with an ease that makes his stomach flutter with butterflies.

“Yuuri…”

He’s breathless and so utterly enchanted by the man who holds him in his arms and he wants desperately to be somewhere private so they can talk about what just happened.

But the longer they dance the more he finds himself swept away as laughter spills from his lips and his cheeks hurt from the permanent smile that brightens his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he prays that Chris pieced together what happened and has the sense to capture this moment, this first dance with his soulmate for him.

It isn’t until Yuuri dips him with a hand splayed against his check that he catches sight of Yuuri’s Words. _‘Commemorative photo? Sure thing!’_ is written in a stark black against Yuuri’s wrist and before he can think it through he turns his head and presses his lips against them.

Yuuri jerks and for a split second he thinks he’s about to be dropped to the floor but Yuuri just sweeps him up into the protective circle of his arms once more and spins them around the others on the makeshift dance floor.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into Yuuri’s ear as he takes the lead for a few turns.

Thankfully, Yuuri doesn’t jerk away again but instead presses his face into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” Yuuri whispers and he can’t help the shiver that races down his spine when he feels Yuuri’s lips and warm breath against his skin. “They’re yours so it’s okay.”

 _They’re yours_.

“I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you skate at Junior Worlds,” Yuuri continues and for the second time in a single night Yuuri completely changes his world. “You were so beautiful. Still are.”

 _Beautiful_.

Tears fall down his cheeks before he can really register they even formed in the first place and he’s desperate for privacy because there is so much he wants to ask, so much he wants to say,  just -

“Oh no, no, no, no don’t cry Viktor!” Yuuri words slur together slightly but he sounds genuinely distressed and quickly reaches up to brush the tears away. He only cries harder because how could he have gotten so lucky that the man whose soul compliments his own is this stunning and genuine and beautiful?

Yuuri continues to brush the tears away and attempts to comfort him by murmuring in Japanese and god why hasn’t he thought to learn Japanese before this? He’s certain the words Yuuri’s whispering to him are lovely and beautiful and he wants desperately to understand.

Somehow, despite the fact he’s crying they continue to dance, still pressed close to each other while the music and general chatter of everyone around them remain in the background as Yuuri leads them with an ease that surely makes the other skaters shake with envy.

God, Yuuri’s amazing.

“I don’t think anyone would think poorly of you Viktor if you two left.”

Chris’s words startle him enough to make Yuuri shoot their friend a sharp frown but his soulmate remains silent otherwise as he scans the rest of the banquet hall. Before he can follow his friend’s advice Yuuri’s expression morphs into glee. “Oh my god.”

If he wasn’t a competitive figure skater Viktor is positive he would have fallen on his face when Yuuri grabs his wrist and yanks him across the room without any warning whatsoever.

By now thankfully, most of the others at the banquet have moved on from Viktor Nikiforov finding his soulmate and only watch out of the corner of their eyes instead of unabashedly gaping at them. Though as he watches Yuuri test the sturdiness of the pole set up near the h'orderves he has a feeling that will quickly change.

“Yuuri,” Chris practically purrs next to him, “Do you know how to pole dance?”

Yuuri swings his gaze to Chris and Viktor’s heart stutters in his chest at the sight of that bright smile again. “Yup!”

And well, it’s a very good thing he isn’t drinking anything right then because he would have certainly choked on it and possibly died as a result.  

“Oh, Yuuri you are certainly full of surprises!”

Yuuri giggles at Chris’ words and he can only watch the exchange with wide eyes as his mind tries to process the last couple hours of his life.

Chris throws an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders as he says, “Why don’t you and I have our own little dance off, hmm Yuuri? I felt terribly left out earlier.”

Yuuri’s brow furrows adorably and Viktor’s utterly gone over this man when Yuuri bites his bottom lip in deep thought. How on earth did he wind up with said man as his soulmate? It didn’t seem possible but the warm Words on his chest proved otherwise.

A few moments later though, Yuuri’s face brightens again as he turns to look at Chris. “Okay! But we’re um, we’re wearing - what’s the word..clothes! Too many clothes.”

The next few minutes pass in a wild blur and all he can do yet again is watch in complete shock as Yuuri stumbles out of his pants and struggles with the buttons on his dress shirt until he stands right in front of Viktor in only his briefs and ugly, ugly tie.

It isn’t until Leon whistles beside him that he’s broken from his trance. “We are lucky men, Viktor.”

His mouth is too dry to respond and even if he could manage to form words he certainly has forgotten all his Russian and English as Yuuri gracefully climbs the pole. The music isn’t anything he thought people could really pole dance too but Yuuri and Chris don’t seem bothered by it. Especially Yuuri, who the longer Viktor watches the more it seems like he’s creating the music with his body as he moves and rather than the other way around.

Leon hollers when Chris joins Yuuri on the pole, sensual and confident and somehow his friend’s soulmate manages to swipe a bottle of champagne and shove it into Yuuri’s hands.

Maybe he messed up his quad flip and he died on the ice because this can’t be reality. Yet each time Yuuri laughs or throws him a look clouded with desire he feels his heart race in his chest. Hearts don’t race when you’re dead right?

“Okay, okay you win Yuuri!” Chris laughs as he plants his feet firmly on the ground again. Though he barely registers the words because Yuuri is currently hanging parallel to the floor and only keeping himself upright on the pole with his thighs.

Those thighs…

Yuuri giggles and arches his back until his head hovers scant inches off the ground and he barely looks winded when compared to Chris who’s trying to catch his breath as Leon leads them away to find somewhere to sit.

Before anyone can urge Yuuri down before his legs give out, said man swings himself upright and gracefully plants his feet firmly on the ground. For a second, he thinks Yuuri’s going to topple over when confusion spreads across the man’s face but his soulmate just giggles again as he stumbles slightly on his way over to Viktor.

“That was so much fun,” Yuuri says and he’s only given a split second of a warning before his soulmate throws his arms around his neck and presses against him with his full weight.

Maybe he should have joined Mila during the days she lifted because Yuuri may be shorter than him but he’s built solid. Which of course, he should have known because Yuuri _is_ a competitive figure skater. He has to be strong in order manage the difficult jumps of their sport.

While he’s lost in his thoughts Yuuri presses his face into the crook of his neck again and Viktor isn’t sure how he’s going to survive the night. “I don’t wanna go back to Detroit…”

Right. This is the last night most skaters are going to spend in Russia. Of course, he finds his soulmate only to be forced to part with him the very next day. He tries not to let that thought sour his mood so he turns his head and presses his lips to Yuuri’s temple. “I’m sorry, lyubov moya.”

Yuuri makes a sad sound and before he can ask why he’s cut off. “We should...we should go to Hasestu instead!”

And just like that the sadness he feels at the idea of leaving Yuuri behind tomorrow is shoved so far back he can hardly feel it anymore. “Is that where you’re from?” he asks, breathless because Yuuri said _we_.

Yuuri nods enthusiastically and positively beams. “Yeah! I can show you, um, the hot springs my family owns and the - the rink I learned to skate at! Oh, we can even skate together. Viktor you’d skate with me right? I’ve always wanted - wait!”

Startled he barely manages to keep Yuuri from falling when his soulmate jerks back to look him in the eyes like he just came up with the best idea in the world.

So when Yuuri says, “You should be my coach! Viktorrrrrr, come be my coach!” his brain malfunctions and his eyes widened.

There’s a choked noise of surprise and it takes a moment for him to realize it didn’t come from him but rather Yura who’s standing slightly behind him. Why hasn’t Yakov sent the teenager back to his room? Why hasn’t anyone thought that a fourteen-year-old should probably not watch two grown men pole dance? Why is his mind stuck on Yura when Yuuri’s the one pulling the rug out from beneath his feet for the _third_ time tonight?

“Like Viktor would coach a loser like you!”

Much to his surprise Yuuri just laughs at Yura’s snarled insult and reaches out to pat the top of the young boy’s head affectionately.

For a moment, he’s positive Yura is going to break Yuuri’s hand but instead, the younger boy swats it away with an affronted expression on his face. “Don’t touch me!”

Yuuri just giggles. “あなたは怒っている子猫のように見えます。”

He really, really regrets never learning Japanese. Why hasn’t he ever thought about learning it again? He likes languages, they’re fun and yet he stupidly didn’t think to learn the most beautiful one…

Yura’s face turns red and normally the sight of it would pull teasing words from his lips but he wisely decides to keep them to himself tonight. “What did you just call me?” he shouts loud enough to draw more attention to their little trio.

When he looks back at Yuuri, his soulmate just looks as confused as them. “私は怒った子猫を言っていませんでしたか？”

“I don’t speak Japanese, pig!”

Yuuri blinks, face perfectly blank before he furrows his brows in confusion _again_ and oh god, he can definitely spend a lifetime discovering all the adorable expressions Yuuri’s capable of making. “You don’t? Wait I thought I was speaking...oh no am I forgetting English?”

He doesn’t seem too concerned about that and just as Yura opens his mouth to undoubtedly insult his soulmate again Yuuri gasps and looks absolutely terrified. “О, нет, я тоже забыл русский? ”

That was Russian.

His soulmate just spoke Russian.

Accented and a little stiff but the fact that Yuuri knows enough to apparently string a sentence together while he’s drunk is almost too much to handle on top of everything else.

Oh, he must’ve met his death earlier today. There’s no other explanation. And so with wide eyes, he glances over at Yura who looks equally stunned and uses the teenager’s shock to grab Yuuri’s clothes. He helps his soulmate stumble back into them because this is too much and his heart is racing in his chest and he needs to escape the banquet with Yuuri right now so he can catch his breath without an audience prying into the one part of his life he’s tried to keep to himself the last few years.

Somewhere in the midst of redressing, Yuuri’s ugly, ugly tie winds up around his head and his shirt is buttoned horribly wrong but it will have to do. He doubts drunk Yuuri cares all that much about how he looks right now considering he barely blinked taking his clothes in the first place.

He searches Yuuri’s jacket pockets to try and find his room key but pulls out a slightly beat up iPhone instead. Yuuri seems perfectly content to lean against him and nuzzle his face into Viktor’s neck again, so he allows himself to give in to his impulse to puts his number into Yuuri’s phone.

“Yuuri,” he murmurs when the rest of his search doesn’t reveal a room key. “Where’s the key to your room? I think you’ve had enough fun tonight, да?”

Yuuri pulls away and pouts. “Party pooper,” he says with a dramatic sigh but pats his pant pockets anyway before finally finding his room key.

He can’t help it but think Yuuri is far too adorable and even if for some reason he wanted to he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up his throat or the way his chest blooms with warmth. “What kind of soulmate would I be if I let you drink yourself into a hospital?”

Yuuri’s pout only deepens. “A fun one!” he squints at the card before he shoving it into Viktor’s hands. “I can’t read that.”

He laughs again and helps Yuuri navigate his way through the banquet hall and out into the corridor that’ll take them to the elevators. Yuuri doesn’t complain once, instead, his soulmate seems perfectly content to lean against him and cuddle into his shoulder.

And frankly, he’s rather charmed by it.

Just as they round the corner and the elevators are within sight, Yuuri slumps suddenly and Viktor finds himself supporting Yuuri’s full weight. Grunting in surprise he barely manages to keep Yuuri from falling to the floor. “Yuuri, no you can’t fall asleep yet,” he says frantically as he hears the elevator ding down the hall.

When he looks up he sees Yuuri’s coach slumped and clearly passed out between Chris and Leon, who are both doing nothing to hide their laughter. “Don’t worry, Viktor,” Chris purs. “We’ll wait for you lovebirds.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers, or well he tries to whisper and fails spectacularly at but he still turns to look at his soulmate with a smile. “Who are the lovebirds?”

When Viktor laughs this time Yuuri pouts which only makes him laugh harder and let out a rather undignified snort because honestly, this man is far too precious when he’s drunk. Yuuri looks startled at the sound before he’s laughing too.

It takes far too long for the five of them to find themselves outside Yuuri and his coach’s hotel rooms but he supposes two fully grown men who can’t walk a straight line (and isn’t that baffling since Yuuri was on a pole only twenty minutes ago) will slow anyone down Chris and Leon quickly duck inside one of the rooms, deposit Yuuri’s coach and make their way back down to the banquet.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Chris calls as he steps into the elevator and just like that he’s alone with Yuuri again.

A very drunk and tired Yuuri.

“Alright Yuuri, think you can walk for a little longer?” he asks as he shoves the room key into the lock on the door and waits for the light to flash green.

Just as it does he notices Yuuri look down at his feet with a stern expression. “You hear that feet? Only a little longer.”

Drunk Yuuri is quickly becoming his favorite person on the planet and he honestly can’t wait to get to know sober Yuuri too. As he pushes the door open he barely manages to keep his laughter to himself and Yuuri happily follows him inside. The moment Yuuri sees his bed he has a surge of energy and flings himself onto it which leaves him suddenly Yuuri-less and very much off balance.

He stumbles slightly which is enough for Yuuri to think it’s the funniest thing he’s ever witnessed based on the tears that leak out of the corner of his eyes as he stifles his laughter into the palm of his hand.

“Yuuuuuri,” he mock pouts as he pulls the ugly, ugly tie off his soulmate’s head. “So mean to me.”

While Yuuri’s laughter calms down, he busies himself with finding a glass and filling it with water. He hesitates for a moment in front of Yuuri’s suitcase wondering if he should look for some aspirin so he doesn’t wake up with an awful hangover.

Though, a quick glance at Yuuri who’s chuckling as he fumbles with the buttons on his dress shirt tells him Yuuri will have a hangover no matter what. So he abandons that idea and sets the glass of water on the nightstand just as Yuuri’s given up taking off his shirt. Somehow he manages to pull the covers over Yuuri who seems like he could fall asleep right half on his bed and half hanging off of it.

Once Yuuri’s comfortable he realizes he had no other reason to stay. No matter how much he’d like to. Yuuri is drunk (though how drunk exactly remained a mystery) and it’s the kind of drunk Viktor knows he isn’t in any condition to consent to Viktor sleeping in the same bed with him.

Even if all they would do is actually sleep.

Just as he starts to step back from Yuuri’s bed, he feels fingers wrap around his wrist. “Wait. Am... am I really your soulmate?”

Viktor decides right then and there that he hates how small Yuuri sounds and never wants to hear this beautiful man ever sound like that again. He leans down and brushes his lips gently against Yuuri’s forehead. “Yes, you are. And I’m yours.”

“Mine?” Yuuri sounds so hopeful it makes his heart ache.

“Yes, Yuuri,” he says and moves to brush his lips across Yuuri’s temple.

He can’t bring himself to pull away yet. Pulling away would mean he’ll have to go back to his room and sleep alone knowing that a few floors down the man whose Words he has on his chest is asleep.

“I’ll be yours for as long you want me to be.”

A silence settles over them then and he wonders if Yuuri finally fell asleep but when he pulls away Yuuri is looking at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen and he finds himself hopelessly lost in those eyes. Yuuri reaches up after a moment and caresses his cheeks with a kind of reverence that leaves him breathless.

“Forever then,” Yuuri murmurs.

Viktor’s heart aches but in that beautiful, happy way that his parents described to him when he was six and asked them what love felt like.

“How are you so amazing, Yuuri?” he whispers as tears well in his eyes again. He manages to blink them away though, knowing how upset Yuuri got last time he thought he made him cry.

Yuuri shakes his head and lets his hands fall back to the bed. Viktor immediately misses their warmth. “‘m not but I promise I’ll try ‘n make you h-happy.”

He brushes some of Yuuri’s hair back as his soulmate yawns and turns to lay on his side. “You already do,” he whispers as Yuuri finally drifts off to sleep. “Goodnight, solnyshko.”

And with one last lingering look, Viktor drinks in Yuuri’s tousled hair and beautiful smile as he dreams before turning and leaving the room. The hallway is too bright and he quickly closes his eyes as he leans against Yuuri’s door with a sigh.

Of all the scenarios he used to dream up as a child of how he would meet his soulmate, meeting Yuuri at the Grand Prix Final banquet after another empty, uninspired win had not been one of them.

And yet - he wouldn’t change a single moment.

 

. . .

 

He wakes up late the next morning with a nasty headache and a sore throat. Part of him wishes he could excuse how crappy he felt because he drank too much at the banquet but instead he had stayed up until it was nearly dawn looking up Yuuri on his phone (and really who didn’t have a Facebook these days? Apparently the one and only Katsuki Yuuri) and then watched all his previous programs that were uploaded to Youtube.

And he may or may not have liked every single Instagram picture that his rinkmate back in Detroit posted of Yuuri.

He definitely did and followed him too. He doesn’t know when he’ll see Yuuri in person again after today after all. Should he send Phichit a year’s supply of the best hamster food for single-handedly being responsible for Yuuri’s online presence…?

Shaking his head at the frankly bizarre thought he grabs his phone instead to check and see if Yuuri messaged him and immediately groans when he realizes he forgot to charge it before he finally passing out from exhaustion. Hurriedly he plugs the charger in and decides to take a shower while he waits for it to have enough of a charge to turn on.

His mind drifts to memories of the night before by the time he’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror to start his routine it’s then that his eyes catch on the black letters etched just beneath his collarbone and at that point, nothing could stop the beaming smile that pulled at his lips.

It happened, really, truly happened and Yuuri is five floors down probably still asleep unless -

As soon as the thought crosses his mind he dashes out of the bathroom, grabs his phone and prays it has enough of a charge as he presses down on the power button.

When the logo appears he lets out a shaky, relieved sigh.

When his phone powers on completely it immediately begins to ping with notifications. A lot of them are from Twitter and Instagram but there are several messages as well.

(And two missed calls from his mama but he’ll call her back later.)

There’s nothing from Yuuri and he quickly stomps out his disappointment. He doesn’t know if Yuuri has even woken up yet, the radio silence so far doesn’t mean Yuuri’s upset his soulmate is Viktor and left without saying goodbye.

He’ll just have to be patient.

So, refusing to let himself spiral into a pit of worry he scrolls through all the photos that Chris had sent a couple hours ago of him and Yuuri dancing instead. It helps to see the carefree, happy smile on Yuuri’s face as they spun around the makeshift dance floor. It helps to see those black words on Yuuri’s wrist, undeniable proof that the universe had wanted them to meet.

Just as he’s in the middle of saving all of Chris’s photos and sorting them into an album on his phone he finally gets a text message from a number he doesn’t recognize. His heart immediately starts to race because it _has_ to be Yuuri.

(Unless his phone number was somehow leaked again.)

 **Yuuri <3:** Is this...really Viktor Nikiforov? If this isn’t this is a really messed up prank.

 **Viktor:** not a prank i promise, see!!!! :)

 **Viktor:** [photo sent - a selfie of him sitting on his bed smiling and only realizing too late that his hair is still an absolute mess]

 **Viktor:** how are you feeling? i hope you’re not too hungover :((( i was thinking we could grab some breakfast and talk! :D

 **Viktor:** if you are though i can bring you something! we don’t have to go out if you’re not feeling up to it  <333

 **Yuuri <3:** Oh my god

 **Viktor:** yuuri???

After five minutes with no reply from Yuuri, he runs fingers through his hair and most definitely _does not_ start pacing. Instead, he forces himself to actually go through his normal morning routine this time and get dressed. Will Yuuri mind if he stops by his room? What if he had fallen back asleep?

Just as he’s about to throw caution to the wind and head down to Yuuri’s room his phone pings with another message.

Except it isn’t from Yuuri, instead it’s a DM from Instagram which he almost ignores until he notices the username as Yuuri’s rinkmate back in Detroit. He quickly taps his passcode in, fingers fumbling to open the right app.

Has something happened to Yuuri?

 **phichit+chu** : is it true? are you and yuuri really soulmates??????

 **v-nikiforov** : hi phichit! it’s true! :D he said my Words at the banquet last night after he challenged little yuri to a dance-off. <33333

 **v-nikiforov** : is he okay though??? :( he hasn’t responded to my last text message and i’m getting worried

 **phichit+chu** : !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **phichit+chu** : oh my god oh my god ok you should probably head down to yuuri’s room cause he’s totally freaking out about all of this and doesn’t believe you guys are really soulmates. he probably forgot the whole night tbh he does that when he drinks too much

 **phichit+chu** : i want details of how things went down though! after you sweep my best friend off his feet of course ;)))))

He stares at Phichit’s messages for a few moments as he tries to process the fact that Yuuri probably doesn’t remember last night, the most important night of both of their lives. It stings a little bit, he can admit that much but that’s a minor hiccup in the grand scheme of things really.

He remembers and that’s enough.

And so with that thought in his mind, he quickly pulls on his shoes, grabs his wallet and room key and makes his way towards the elevators. He has no idea what he’s going to say to Yuuri that’ll convince him of the truth, frankly he hopes by just showing up that it’ll be enough because Viktor finds himself abruptly nervous when the elevator stops on Yuuri’s floor.

He hasn’t felt this nervous since his first Grand Prix competition at the senior level, _ten_ years ago.  

It’s silly to be nervous, he knows. They’re soulmates. He has faith they’ll want to learn everything there is about each other. He has too because otherwise, he won’t know what to do with the nearly twenty-three years he’s spent looking forward to this moment (and fearing it may not have even come to pass).

He desperately wants to learn everything about Yuuri. Wants to know what made him try ice skating, what made him fall in love with it, what makes him laugh and smile, what he loves most about where he grew up…

He doesn’t realize he’s reached Yuuri’s door and knocked until it’s suddenly opening and he’s met with the beautiful sight of his sleep-rumpled and hungover soulmate.

“Yuuri!”

Said man flinches and Viktor immediately feels bad because oh right, Yuuri probably has one of the worst headaches of his life right now. He gives Yuuri a sheepish smile and reaches up to flatten the cowlick on the crown of Yuuri’s head. “Ah sorry Yuuri, I’m just excited.”

And terribly nervous but he isn’t about to let that particular emotion show. (He has a feeling he’ll fail spectacularly on that front because this isn’t a competition and if he screws up here he doesn’t get the chance to do it again.)

“You’re…but…”

Oh no, confused Yuuri is way too adorable to be good for his heart. Despite his nerves, he can’t help himself and reaches to pull Yuuri’s hands into his own. “We have so much to talk about! Are you feeling well enough for breakfast or should I go grab us something real quick and bring it back here? Do you like coffee? Or are you more of a tea drinker?”  

He tries not to bounce on the heels of his feet too much when Yuuri just stares at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw but he’s pretty sure he’s failing on that front. “This is a dream,” Yuuri finally blurts.

Right okay, so Yuuri definitely doesn’t remember last night.

“Nope! You’re very much awake, I promise,” he says cheerfully and throws a wink Yuuri’s way even though on the inside he’s growing a little worried.

Yuuri shakes his head so quickly he wonders how the other man didn’t give himself whiplash. Is it really so impossible for Yuuri to believe they’re soulmates? Is Yuuri disappointed? He hadn’t seemed all that upset by the idea they were soulmates last night.

“I...but you didn’t know who I was…”

And oh wow he didn’t know it was possible to feel incandescently happy and full of guilt all at once. The first clear memory of Yuuri surfaces quickly and he flinches as he remembers the devastated expression that crossed Yuuri’s face after he asked what he had thought was an innocent enough question.

“Oh Yuuri,” he breathes and squeezes Yuuri’s shaking hands gently. “I’m so sorry. I...haven’t been exactly in the best place for a while, even if you had crashed right into me during warm-ups I probably wouldn’t have remembered you.”

Yuuri flinches and looks hurt and he mentally kicks himself for his phrasing. “That came out wrong,” he says in a desperate rush but Yuuri’s pained expression remains. “Can I please come inside and we can talk? I’ll answer whatever questions you have, I promise.”

For a heartstopping moment he thinks Yuuri is going to refuse and slam the door in his face (and he wouldn’t have blamed Yuuri, would have truly deserved it for his carelessness) but his fear is swept away when Yuuri opens the door fully and whispers, “O-okay.”

The room doesn’t look any different, not that he had expected it to dramatically change in the hours between when he helped Yuuri to bed and this morning but it helps soothe the jagged edges of his worry.

He turns when he hears the door click shut and Yuuri shuffles to sit on his bed. “So,” he says as he looks anywhere but at Viktor. “Am I really your soulmate?”

Maybe he should have called his mama before he sought Yuuri out because he isn’t sure how to handle the delicate emotional state that Yuuri seems to be in right now. He’s admittedly never been great at knowing what to do when someone is a heartbeat away from crying.

But he hasn’t called her and it’s far too late to do just that so he takes a deep breath and sits on the bed next to Yuuri, mindful to keep a comfortable distance between them. “Yes,” he says softly. “You said my Words right after you beat little Yuri in a dance-off.”

Yuuri’s groans and looks away from the view of Sochi outside staring just to the right of him with a deep blush coloring his cheeks.

Oh no, embarrassed Yuuri is adorable too. The walls he’s carefully built around his heart don’t stand a chance against this wonderful man.

“I always do crazy things when I drink too much, that’s so embarrassing…”

And well, even though it’s not the right moment to laugh considering the atmosphere of the room, Viktor can’t help but do just that. “You had a dance-off with Chris as well but on a pole. Which you also won by the way.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen and this time Viktor can see it isn’t from shock but rather embarrassment. “Y...you’re joking, please tell me you’re joking!”

He shakes his head and fails miserably at keeping his laughter at bay. Yuuri groans again and buries his face in his hands. “You were quite stunning last night, Yuuri. I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he says as he pulls up some of the photos on his phone to show the other man.

Yuuri makes a choked noise. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening right now.”

“Oh, but it is Yuuri! You have nothing to be embarrassed about, you made that stuffy banquet actually _fun_. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” he says in what he hopes will be a soothing tone as he lays his phone next to Yuuri. “Look for yourself.”

For a moment it looks like Yuuri wants to bolt from his own hotel room but he takes a shaky but deep breath and picks up his phone. The next few minutes are spent like that, him sitting quietly as Yuuri looks through the photos. When Yuuri gets to the ones of him pole dancing with Chris he turns a bright red.

“We...we looked happy,” Yuuri finally says when he reaches the end of the album and hands the phone back. “I-I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

Yuuri seems to have calmed down some so he reaches out to grab Yuuri’s hand again and lace their fingers together. “We were,” he says gently. “And it’s okay! I remember and there’s no way I’ll ever forget it.”

The room falls silent again as Yuuri looks anywhere but at him, he doesn’t take it too personally though. It must be overwhelming to wake up and discover you had met your soulmate the night before but remembered none of it. So he decides to remain patient since Yuuri thankfully doesn’t seem like he’s going to run off or tell him to leave and leaves his soulmate to his thoughts for now.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispers suddenly. “I’m just having a hard time...believing this is real, that you’re actually my soulmate.”

He frowns and gently squeezes Yuuri’s hands. “Why is it so hard to believe?” he asks.

Yuuri bites his lip and looks down at their clasped hands. “Because you’re Viktor Nikiforov,” he mumbles and Viktor’s heart clenches in his chest.

He knows, of course, that Yuuri admires him, that he’s a fan. He had admitted as much last night when he told Viktor that he’d seen him skate almost twelve years ago now. But he had hoped that Yuuri would still see him as a _person_ , would look at him and see past the medals and world records…

“And I’m just some nobody skater from Japan. You deserve someone who isn’t a failure that finishes in last place.”

 _Oh_.

What can he say that will ease some of Yuuri’s self-doubt? He isn’t foolish enough to believe he can get rid of it entirely (though he desperately wishes he could) but he doesn’t want to make it worse either.

“Yuuri,” he says as he gently cups his soulmate’s chin and lifts his face so he can see those beautiful, warm brown eyes. “You are not a nobody skater. You skate _beautifully_ and even though you finished last here, you still made it, to begin with. Only the six best skaters in the world make it. Don’t diminish your accomplishments. After all, you _are_ Japan’s Ace.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen and completely stills by the time he finishes talking. Has he said something wrong? “You’ve seen me skate?” he asks breathlessly.

“Oh, yes! I watched all your routines that were uploaded online! It was tricky navigating the websites that were in Japanese but I think I managed to find everything! Your jumps definitely can use some work but you clearly have the skill to land them. And oh! Your step sequences and spins are stunning, Yuuri. You perform like you’re making the music with your body instead of the other way around,” he says brightly.

Yuuri makes that same choked noise from earlier and tries to drop his gaze back down to his lap as another blush blooms on his cheeks. “I can’t believe you watched those,” Yuuri mumbles. “I mean...I-I always wanted you to see me skate one day but I wanted you to see me when I was, um, better than I am now.”

He can’t help but wonder what Yuuri could do if he had more confidence in himself and his abilities, he’s positive Yuuri can pose a real challenge to him if he his anxieties were gone.

That thought alone sends a thrill straight to his heart.

“Nonsense,” he chirps and shoots Yuuri a beaming smile. “You’re quite amazing already. Of course, there are things you can improve on but you’re clearly talented so there’s no reason you won’t be able to bounce back and make it to Worlds! It’s in Japan this year which means you can show me around, maybe we can even go to Hasetsu, did I say that right? And you can show me and Makkachin where you grew up.”

Yuuri grows quiet again though this time and it doesn’t feel like the kind of silence where Yuuri is simply trying to gather his thoughts but rather something much more solemn.

Before he can ask what’s wrong, however, Yuuri jumps up and looks down at his feet. “W-we should probably go get breakfast before it’s too late.”

He blinks and once again wonders if he said something wrong. “Yuuri?” he asks cautiously.

Yuuri refuses to look up but he can see the tension in his soulmate’s shoulders clear as day from where he sits. “I’d um, rather not talk about skating anymore. I-if that’s alright.”

Even though he’s terribly confused about the sudden shift in Yuuri’s mood he nods and stands. “Of course, we can talk about whatever you want. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?”

He watches as Yuuri takes a shuddering breath before looking up to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

 

. . .

 

Alright, so he didn’t think the whole breakfast idea through.

Yuuri seems like he’s two seconds away from hyperventilating when they step out the elevator and see the swarm of reporters pressing against the windows to the lobby. He’s been so caught up in the excitement of finally, finally meeting Yuuri that he forgot that the whole world exists outside the safe, little bubble they’ve created around each other.

It doesn’t help they’re in Russia where the reporters will be even more determined to corner the pair of them and ask their slew of invasive questions. Especially since he’s done his best to dodge their questions about his soulmate, about Yuuri, for so many years now. He basically did this to himself and mentally he curses himself for not throwing them more bones over the years so he could enjoy this morning with Yuuri in peace.

The hotel workers are doing their best to keep the horde at bay but the moment they catch sight of him as they near the doors it’s like the proverbial floodgates have been opened and nothing can stop them.

He steps in front of Yuuri out of pure instinct when the first reporters reach them and plasters a well-practiced smile on his face. Hopefully, if he answers a few of their questions, enough to give them something to run with in the tabloids they’ll leave him and Yuuri alone so they can actually enjoy what little time they have left before going back to their separate parts of the world.

“Viktor! Viktor is it true fellow skater Yuuri Katsuki is your soulmate? Is that him behind you? Have you told him you’re a Slush? How does he feel about that?”

“Yuuri! What are your Words?”

“Are you disappointed that your soulmate couldn’t make it onto the podium with you?”

As soon as the last question hits their ears, Viktor can practically feel Yuuri wilt behind him and it’s only his numerous years of dealing with these kinds of reporters that keep him from losing his temper.

How _dare_ they?

“We will not be answering any questions today! Sorry,” he says loudly but with enough false cheer to keep them from pressing in closer like the sharks they are. “Now, please excuse us.”

He quickly grabs Yuuri’s hand and starts walking the opposite direction from the reporters. Thankfully he remembers enough of Sochi from the Olympics last year to cut down the quieter streets until they reach the quaint little cafe he had found when he ventured out of the Olympic Village.

“What’s a Slush?”

Yuuri’s voice is quiet but the words cut through him like a knife and he can’t help but stumble from his surprise. He’d hoped Yuuri hadn’t caught that word, hadn’t picked out that question, had hoped his Russian wasn’t good enough to keep up with the reporter's rapid pace.

It’s just his luck that didn’t happen.

Before he can answer though, Yuuri speaks again. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to answer! I-I shouldn’t pry like that. Let’s just go inside and um, grab something to eat. Forget I even asked!”

For a second he plays with the idea of taking Yuuri’s out. It isn’t a topic he enjoys thinking about, let alone discussing and he knows Yuuri won’t think poorly of him for not opening up when clearly there are things his soulmate isn’t ready to talk about himself.

But…

He’s tired, exhausted really from constantly hiding behind a mask. And Yuuri should be the one person he can drop said mask around, assuming the universe didn’t mess up pairing them together of course.

“No, it’s alright,” he says as he shifts his gaze to look at Yuuri directly. “You’ll find out eventually and I’d rather you hear it from me anyway. I’m a little surprised you don’t already know.”

Yuuri bites his lip and the sight of it soothes some of the tension that has crept up his spine. “But let’s grab something to eat first and then I’ll explain.”

Once they’re situated at a table near the back with food and warm drinks in front of them he takes a deep breath. “Slush is a slur in Russia,” he starts, unable to look Yuuri in the eyes for this part. “It’s a nasty way of describing people whose parents both have gray Words. There are a lot of people in Russia who don’t believe I have a soul because of that.”

Yuuri sucks in a sharp breath and he barely represses the instinctive flinch when it reaches his ears.

Instead, he tries to hide his shame by shooting Yuuri the same smile he gave the reporters earlier and waves his hand. “It doesn’t bother me though,” he says with feigned nonchalance. “My parents are wonderful people and I never once felt like I don’t have a soul growing up.”

Yuuri’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes a sip of his tea. “It does though. Bother you I mean,” he says simply once he sets his cup back down on the table. “It’s okay if it does, Viktor. It would bother me if I were in your shoes.”

The words are said gently, in the same tone that Yuuri used to tell him he was beautiful last night and his eyes widen slightly upon hearing it again. “It does,” he says because there’s no use lying about something Yuuri clearly can see right through. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Yuuri tilts his head slightly, silently curious.

“When they call me that it bothers me because my parents don’t deserve the hatred. Neither of them could help that their soulmates died before they could meet them. They shouldn’t be punished for finding happiness.”

There’s a beat of silence before Yuuri’s lips curl into a soft smile. “No, they shouldn’t be. I’m really glad they found each other anyway.”

 

. . .

 

They stay at the cafe too long talking. Or well, he did a lot of the talking and Yuuri mostly listened but it was wonderful regardless. Within five minutes of each other, their coaches are calling and reminding them they both have flights leaving that afternoon and training to return to before each of their Nationals in a couple weeks.

Yuuri at least has the decency to look apologetic as he speaks to Celestino.

Him on the other hand, well he registers every third sentence Yakov’s yelling at him. After so many years, he’s practically immune to Yakov’s lectures and claims that he will be the reason he finds himself in an early grave. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I already packed this morning!”

That’s a bold-faced lie but Yakov doesn’t have to know that.

“Vitya,” Yakov grows. “Don’t miss the flight. You can spend all the time you want with your soulmate after you win at Worlds boy!”

Worlds seems so insignificant to him now or rather less urgent than it did before he met Yuuri. Skating is still important to him but now Yuuri is too. Beautiful, wonderful Yuuri who has a kind smile and warm heart, who makes him _feel_ when for so long he felt nothing.

“Bye, Yakov!” he says and quickly hang up before his coach can give him another earful.

No, he wants to devote his full attention to watching Yuuri. And so, he places his chin in his hand and rests his elbow on their small table and unabashedly smiles when he notices a blush stain Yuuri’s cheeks over the attention.

“Yes, we’ll head back now. Bye, Ciao Ciao.”

When Yuuri looks at him again he blinks in surprise before he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Wow that pout, are you six or twenty-six?” he teases.

And oh he could get used to a lifetime of Yuuri teasing him.

“Of course I’m pouting, I want to spend more time with you,” he whines as he deepens the pout. He’s successful in only making Yuuri blush and stand from his seat with laughter on his lips.

“What time is your flight?”

He glances at his phone and then back at Yuuri with the biggest grin he could muster. “In two hours!”

Yuuri’s eyes widen and he splutters, “Viktor! W-why didn’t you say something sooner? No wonder your coach sounded angry. He probably thinks it’s my fault you’re running late.”

Before Yuuri can accidentally hit someone with his flailing arms he reaches out and gently grabs his hands. “Yuuri, it’s fine. Yakov doesn’t blame you. He’s probably preparing his lecture for me about _my_ carelessness as we speak. When is _your_ flight? That’s the more important question!”

Yuuri freezes as if his brain needs a few extra seconds to process Viktor’s words. “Um...it’s in four hours?”

“Oh, we have plenty of time then!”

Yuuri shoots him a look that he can only describe as exasperation but the smile that tugs at his soulmate’s lips ruin the full effect. “We have to go back, Viktor.”

He knows they’ll have to part ways sooner than he’d like but that doesn’t make it any easier. There are still so many things he wants to ask Yuuri, to learn about him. He wants to draw out more adorable blushes and smiles too of course.

“I know,” he says and plasters a smile on his face. It isn’t Yuuri’s fault they have to go so he does his best not to take out his disappointment on him.

Yuuri, however, continues to surprise him when he feels lips ghost across his knuckles followed by a blush that reaches the tips of Yuuri’s adorable ears. “If, um, if it helps I don’t want to leave either.”

As Yuuri lowers their hands he stares up at him with wide-eyes and a racing heart. When Yuuri looks at him his blush deepens and oh no how is he ever going to recover from this beautiful man? “Yuuri,” he whispers.

Yuuri’s gaze slips back down to their feet.  “Yes?”

He sounds so hesitant, so unsure of himself that it makes his heart twist sharply in his chest. “You’re beautiful.”

He should have said those words last night too, should have swept Yuuri off his feet while they danced and whispered how stunning he was in every language he knew. After all, Yuuri deserves nothing less. He’ll just have to make up for his careless mistake now.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, however, Yuuri yanks his hands away and stumbles a few steps back. “I…we should um, go before we get in trouble.”

And then he bolts from the restaurant.

Viktor can only stare at the space Yuuri had been standing for several stunned seconds before he blinks and turns to see the other man waiting for him outside.

Well. He never did enjoy predictability.

 

. . .

 

The airport’s crowded, skaters, fans and officials alike have flights that’ll take them back to nearly every part of the world until the next event brings them together again. As they make their way through security Viktor can tell that Yuuri’s tense, sees it in the way his shoulders have crept slowly up to his ears as he tries to make himself look as small as possible.

Ahead of them, their coaches talk and Yura scrolls through Twitter and Instagram because none of them are “cool” enough for him to have an actual conversation with.

“Are you alright?” he says as he gently lays a hand on one of Yuuri’s shoulders.

Yuuri jumps at the touch but to his relief doesn’t shake it away. “I keep waiting for um, everyone to run over and...demand to know if we’re really uh, soulmates,” he answers quietly, barely loud enough for Viktor to hear the words over the noise.

“Would it really be such a bad thing if they knew?” He asks, a little hurt before he can stop himself.

It isn’t until both of them have gone through the metal detectors that he gets his answer. Yuuri looks lost in thought but there’s a determination in those warm eyes that he hasn’t seen since he challenged Yuri to a dance-off.

It does funny, but wonderful things to his heart.

“No, it wouldn’t be,” he finally says and the dull ache in Viktor’s chest eases with the words. “It’s just we don’t really...know each other yet. And well, you’re _you_ which is fine! There’s nothing wrong with that! But I want to get to know you without everyone thinking it’s their business too.”

 _Oh_.

His heart swells as Yuuri speaks and he immediately pulls Yuuri into his arms as soon as he finishes. “Yuuri! You’re so sweet!”

Somewhere nearby he hears Yura gag in disgust.

“I...”

“Vitya, let the poor boy go you’ll cause a scene,” Yakov says and does absolutely nothing to hide the exasperation in his voice.

Guiltily he steps back, he really should have asked if it was okay to hug Yuuri, so far he’s gleaned that his soulmate isn’t a very tactile person but he just can’t help himself. He isn’t exactly an affection man himself when it comes to the few people in his life but there’s something about Yuuri that makes Viktor want to cling to him like an octopus at all times.

When he looks at Yuuri he isn’t at all surprised to find a pretty blush coloring his cheeks and his fingers itch to feel the warmed cheeks but he refrains. Instead, he settles on a small but genuine smile. “I understand,” he says. “We can tell everyone whenever you’re ready.”

The smile Yuuri gives him makes everything worth it.

“Thank you, Viktor,” he murmurs.

All too soon though Viktor has to board his flight and St. Petersburg’s never seemed lonelier than it does in that moment. Yes, he wants to do well at Nationals. Yes, he finally feels a little excited to go to competitions again but all of that means he’ll have to be far, far away from Yuuri.

“We’ll talk every day won’t we?” he asks, voice pitched low for only Yuuri’s ears as he reaches out to lace their fingers together.

As Yuuri blushes again, he desperately hopes the cameras on their phones will be able to capture the delicate pink of Yuuri’s cheeks the way they look now. “Um, if you want to yeah.”

Oh sweet, beautiful Yuuri.

“Of course I do, I want to know everything about you!”

Yuuri shakes his head slightly as if to clear his mind. “I’m not a very interesting person,” he mumbles. “You’ll probably get bored...all I do is skate and go to class.”

He quickly waves away Yuuri’s words with his free hand. “False and false. You’ll have to do better than that to get out of me spamming you with _at least_ a hundred text messages a day.”

That gets a laugh out of Yuuri and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile at the sound of it. “Alright, alright but I’ll remind you that you said that when you eventually do get bored.”

Before he can tell Yuuri how wrong he is _again_ , Yakov’s sharp voice cuts him off. “Vitya! Get on the damn plane!”

“Go,” Yuuri urges as he squeezes his hands. “Text me when you land.”

He boards his flight reluctantly and even though his heart aches at being parted so soon he feels lighter than he has in years.

 

. . .

 

“Viktor, as much as I enjoy hearing about all the cute things Makkachin does it’s two in the morning.”

Oh, whoops.

He honestly tries his best to remember the eight hour time difference between them. After nearly two months of talking during every free moment they’ve had, he’s pretty good about texting or calling Yuuri after he knows his soulmate’s gotten up to start his day but sometimes, well sometimes he can admit that he’s a forgetful man.

Yuuri sighs, though thankfully it isn’t an angry one. “Shouldn’t you be practicing right now? Worlds isn’t that far away.”

“Oh, I know! It can’t get here soon enough but my programs are fine. Did you get to work on your transition to that jump combination in your free skate? Your free leg looked sloppy in the last video you sent me,” he says.

Yura happens to skate near him just as he asks Yuuri about his program and the teenager scoffs, rolling his eyes but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. Huh, that’s rather curious. Yura usually loves to yell at Yuuri whenever he catches Viktor on the phone with him.

Yuuri groans and the cutest image pops into his head of the other man all sleepy and hair tousled as he presses his face into his pillow so he doesn’t wake Phichit up. “Viktor,” he says with a slight edge to his voice that has him feeling a bit sheepish. “I did yes, but I am not sending you the new clip until the morning because I have to be up in _four_ hours.”

“Let the piggy sleep, old man!”

He spins in his place to see Yura has already started to skate another lap around the rink. “Aw, Yura I didn’t realize you cared about Yuuri!” he teases because well, Yuri makes it far too easy.

“I don’t care about that loser! I’m just tired of seeing your stupid sappy face!”

And just as quickly as he had appeared, Yuri skates off with all the barely contained rage only a teenager can possess. “I’m not awake enough to remember Russian what did he say?” Yuuri asks through at least two yawns.

“That I should let you sleep!” He replies brightly. “Which I should, I’m sorry Yuuri. Text me when you wake up?”

There’s only a heartbeat of silence before Yuuri replies, “Of course I will. Go practice and let me sleep, _please_.”

Oh no, grumpy Yuuri is adorable too.

 

. . .

 

Someday he knows he’s going to regret giving Yakov and Yuri spare keys to his apartment. Moreso when it comes to Yuri who likes to barge in like he lives in Viktor’s spare room instead of in the skater’s block near the rink.

Like he did just that morning. To watch the Four Continents Championship because he ‘had nothing better to do than watch the piggy fail, geezer’.

“Yura,” he calls from the kitchen. “Have you eaten yet today?”

The only response he gets is a grunt as the teenager continues to scroll through what looks like Instagram but he can’t be completely sure from where he stands. “I’ll take that as a no then,” he says mostly to himself as he whips up a rather simple breakfast for both of them.

“I’m not eating at your sad excuse for a table,” Yuri snarls.

He laughs as he sets a plate down on the coffee table. “I wasn’t going to ask you to,” he says just as his phone pings with a notification.

 **Yuuri <3**: Please tell me you aren’t going to watch.

He frowns and quickly types out a message.

 **Viktor** : of course i’m going to watch why wouldn’t i? you’re going to skate beautifully yuuri <33

 **Yuuri <3**: No I’m not. I couldn’t land a single jump during warm up.

 **Yuuri <3**: The only reason I placed high enough at Nationals is because you suggested I lower the difficulty of my jumps and focus on my step sequences and spins.

 **Yuuri <3**: But I can’t do that here because I need a good enough TES to go to Worlds

 **Viktor** : yuuri

 **Viktor:** can i call you?

 **Yuuri <3**: No! No it’s fine I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.

 **Viktor** : Yuuri. You could never bother me. Tell me what you need from me, please I want to help.

 **Yuuri <3**: …

As he stares at Yuuri’s last message he can’t help but feel utterly out of his depth. He knows Yuuri struggles with anxiety, can see it when his soulmate sends him breathtaking clips of his programs when he’s at practice, riddled with only small errors. So different compared to the flubs he makes in competitions that cost him precious points.

Katsuki Yuuri could have knocked him off the podium several times over if he always skated like he did when he thought no one watched him.

“Is that the piggy? Let me guess he’s having a nervous fucking breakdown over his stupid jumps.” Yuri’s voice snatches him from his thoughts and he looks over at the teenager huddled at the opposite end of the couch.

“Yura!” he admonishes. “Jumps are not everything.”

Yuri just rolls his eyes and drops his gaze back down to his phone. “Pfft, whatever, old man.”

He barely refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose, instead, he returns his focus back to his own phone. His finger hovers over the phone icon next to Yuuri’s name. Should he call Yuuri? Will that help or just make things worse? The men’s singles short program starts in less than an hour and Yuuri said he drew to go third.

In the end, he settles on what he hopes will be an encouraging text and hopes Yuuri manages to see it before he has to go out onto the ice.

 **Viktor** : I believe in you <3

He has the rest of his life to figure out the perfect ways to soothe Yuuri’s anxiety. For now, he just hopes that he didn’t accidentally make everything worse.

 

. . .

 

He must’ve made things worse.

While he thought Yuuri skated well, that his artistry is unparalleled by most in their sport his technical components weren’t where Viktor knows they can be. And the two falls Yuuri had cost him the scores needed to go to Worlds.

Two falls. And two under rotations. To most that wouldn’t be catastrophic but Yuuri had been up against skating machines who churn out quads like they’re the only things that matter.

Immediately after Yuuri’s free skate scores were announced he sent several texts he hoped were supportive and encouraging.

They’ve all gone unanswered.

Yuuri’s radio silence continues in the days that follow and it puts him on edge. Is Yuuri alright? Did something happen on his way back to Detroit? No, that can’t be it, Phichit uploaded a picture yesterday of him and Yuuri in their school’s library cramming for midterms.

Even though Yuuri hasn’t responded to his messages, he still makes sure to send Yuuri a good morning and a goodnight text when wakes up and when he finally trudges his way home after a long day of practice.

He likes every picture Phichit uploads that has Yuuri in it (and some of the cute ones of his hamsters too) and desperately tries not to let doubt creep in the longer Yuuri doesn’t talk to him.

Despite his efforts insecurity claws its way into his heart though when he lays in his too big bed, Makkachin curled up next to him, unable to fall asleep. Maybe he’s a fool, a hopeless romantic of a fool who should know better than to think he’d meet his soulmate and they’d dash off into the sunset happy as can be.

He knows, of course, that soulmates don’t always work. That sometimes people claim whoever they’re paired with is someone they love utterly and deeply but completely platonically. That some soulmates spend years together before they wake up one day and realize that perhaps it isn’t meant to last after all. And sometimes, even worse some people wind up with a soulmate who only hurts them, breaking their heart into a million pieces until they’re left behind completely broken.

As a child, he used to wonder what was the point of those kinds of soulmates. What was the point of Words if they weren’t there to make that part of life _easier_ and _better_.

His mama though is truly a saint with her never-ending patience and depthless love and he feels a little lighter after he calls her a week before he’s set to go to Worlds.

“I think,” she says once he finished speaking, voice gentle and soothing.“Our Words are simply there to change our lives, to give us a nudge in the right direction. Even though my Words aren’t your papa’s, without them I would never have met him and fallen in love and had you. I would never have seen similar gray Words written on his wrist and thought ‘oh, he understands’.”

As the words wash over him he can’t help but close his eyes. He knows his parent's tragically beautiful love story. Ate it up as a child as he stared at them with awe in his eyes that they managed to find love when the universe cruelly ripped it away from them in the first place.

He wants so desperately to experience the deep, unbreakable love his parents share.

“So,” she continues, likely knowing where his thoughts had turned, “It’s possible that meeting Yuuri was simply meant to show you it was possible to feel happy again. But everything is still so fresh and new Vitya, you two are still practically strangers to each other. Have some patience. Love isn’t meant to be easy. If it was I don’t think we’d have Words written into our skin.”

He tries to take those words with him when he flies to Japan days later with Yuuri still stubbornly silent. Tries to keep them close to his heart when he steps out of the airport and cameras flash bright and rapid in his face.

He still texts Yuuri every day.

 

. . .

 

Even though he knows it isn’t likely, he still looks for Yuuri when he arrives at the arena the day of the short program. Yuuri might not have made it to Worlds but he’s still an internationally known competitive skater and it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to gain access to the skater's area.

He still feels the disappointment sharp in his chest anyway when the competition and rink remain Yuuri-less.

It isn’t ideal to go into the first day of competition distracted so he stuffs his phone into his bag and begins his stretches. There are expectations to be met and he can’t fail to meet them. And even though Yuuri isn’t physically there with him, he knows his soulmate will be watching.

(“You know, I’ve never once missed watching you skate at a competition,” Yuuri had whispered, sleepy and sounding wholly content as he gradually woke up.

He smiled so wide it ached. “Yuuri,” he cooed because how could he not? “You really are my biggest fan!”

Yuuri had laughed, melting his heart in the process. “If you say so.”

“I do! Phichit said something about there being posters of me in your room…”

After they hung up, his stomach ached from laughter and he went on to win gold at Europeans. It was the first time in years that it hadn’t felt hollow.)

He’s practically untouchable the moment he steps out onto the ice for his free skate. When he first heard Stammi Vicino, when he first heard the longing embedded into the music he didn’t have a clear person he was pleading to. It had been a nebulous future he knew he wanted but couldn’t bring into clarity no matter how hard he tried.

Now, it’s different. Now, he pictures Yuuri at the boards, close by but achingly out of reach.

He pours his soul out onto the ice in a desperate hope that Yuuri will see, that he’ll reach into his bag once scores have been given and medals were around necks and see a text waiting for him.

He breaks his own records.

There’s no text.

 

. . .

 

The decision is an easy one to make once he checks Phichit’s Instagram right after the banquet. Technically, Yuuri _did_ invite him all those months ago to the very place he’s currently darting around his hotel room packing for.

“Have you told your coach where you’re going?” Leon asks quietly from the chair in the corner of the room where Chris had draped himself across his lap like it’s an everyday occurrence.

He wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“No.” He pointedly ignores Chris’s snort before he continues, “I don’t see the point. The season is over and I haven’t booked any ice shows. It’s not like I have any programs to show him for next season anyway.”

It isn’t until he’s zipping his suitcase closed that he realizes both of his friends are oddly quiet. When he looks up Chris is wearing a shocked expression and Leon just looks concerned. “You haven’t started choreographing your programs for next season?” Chris finally asks.

The words sound heavy to his own ears as if Chris can’t bring himself to actually form them as if the concept that The Viktor Nikiforov isn’t already planning to take all the gold the next season is a foreign concept that he can’t wrap his head around.

He takes several deep breaths because he’s afraid if he speaks now the words that’ll spill from his lips won’t be entirely kind. He’s so tired of the expectations, of the way even his friends look at him and see someone who can never belong entirely to himself.

“I haven’t decided if I am going to compete next season,” he replies once he’s sure the despair is neatly tucked back in the far corners of his mind. It seems easier to settle on the truth. Chris is a dear friend, has been for nearly ten years and Leon is quickly becoming just as dear ever since they found each other.

Chris openly gapes at him and sits up straighter, accidentally elbowing Leon in the process. “I know you haven’t exactly been enjoying yourself this season as much as you used to, but Viktor are you seriously considering retiring?”

Yes, yes he is and has been for nearly two years now. Not that he’ll actually admit that to anyone. “I’m already past the age most skaters retire Chris. It’s really shouldn’t be so surprising,” he settles on saying because steering people away from the truth of his inner thoughts is second nature by now.

Chris may be a dear friend but there are some truths that are his and his alone.

“Viktor…” Leon starts but quickly trails off, unsure of how to wrap his head around the Viktor Nikiforov willingly walking away from competitive figure skating. And he isn’t even a skater himself, just a spectator, a lover of the sport Viktor’s dedicated his whole life to.

He turns and checks the bathroom one last time for any items he may have missed. Of course, Viktor knows that the skating world assumes the only way he’ll retire is if he’s forced to because of an injury or his body refuses to keep up with the younger skaters breaking into the senior division.

Is that all he is to the world? A prized possession that only lives to surprise them on the ice?

Hasn’t he given enough of his life to fans and audiences? Or would they rather he perform until he breaks before their very eyes, a fallen puppet on the ice as age and time finally come to collect him?

No. No that isn’t his future anymore. It won’t ever be even if Yuuri never…

He takes a few moments to compose himself before walking back out into the main room of his hotel suite. Chris and Leon haven’t moved much except to tip their heads close together to undoubtedly talk about him.

“Look, right now the only thing I want to focus on is Yuuri and try to understand why he won’t talk to me. I haven’t decided on anything beyond going to Hasetsu.”

Chris looks like he wants to say more but wisely decides to keep his thoughts to himself. While the man is prone to dramatics and likely will throw himself into them if Viktor really does decide to retire he’s also a man who knows when to be serious.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” was all Chris settles on saying.

He shrugs. “I don’t, but I’ll figure it out as I go.”

Yakov left three voicemails by the time he lands in Fukuoka and each progressively grew louder in volume. The only regret he truly has about the whole trip is that he didn’t have the foresight to bring Makkachin with him to Worlds so he didn’t have to do this completely alone.

 

. . .

 

“Oh!”

It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is to see posters of Yuuri all over the train station in Hasetsu but for some reason it is. Pride swells in his heart at the sight of his beautiful soulmate dressed in his practice gear and team jacket with cherry blossoms in bloom behind him.

He’s glad Yuuri’s hometown sees him for the amazing and stunning skater that he is.

After he spends what is probably too long looking at the posters he makes his way out of the train station and into the quaint seaside town Yuuri had described to him. Naturally, this is the moment he realizes he has no idea where Yutopia is and can’t read any signs that might point him in the right direction.

Well, Google Maps hasn’t failed him yet hopefully it won’t now.

It takes twice as long as it probably should but the familiar characters of the inn (he’s memorized two names in Japanese so far. Yutopia’s and Yuuri’s) catches his attention and the relief is swift as it spreads through him at the sight of the cozy inn.

This is where Yuuri grew up. Where he would trail after his sister to ballet classes and eventually dart out the front doors and into the streets on his way to the rink to practice for an upcoming competition.

Those thoughts warm him and give him the courage to walk inside. A woman probably only a couple years older than himself steps out of a backroom just as he slides the door shut behind him. He plasters on his well-worn media smile when she looks up and sees him and silently he prays that she speaks English.

“You’re Viktor Nikiforov.”

It isn’t a question.

Even though this is far from the first time a stranger knows his name without having to introduce himself he didn’t expect anyone in Yuuri’s hometown to really care about the other skaters enough to remember their names. So, he’s a little surprised.

“Uh, yes. I’m looking for Yuuri.”

The woman blinks as though she can’t quite believe the sight before her or the words that he said. “ _You_ are looking for _my_ baby brother? Why?”

Oh! He really should have pieced together the woman was Mari. She fits the description that Yuuri had given him when they were texting in between training for each of their Nationals. Though once he accepts he’s talking to Mari he finally processes her second question.

_Why?_

Shouldn’t she know? Surely Yuuri told his family that he found his soulmate and that his soulmate is well...him, right? His parents hadn’t given him much of a choice about telling them, they had seen the rumors in the news right after the GPF and had made themselves at home in his apartment by the time he waltzed through the front door.

So, if their roles were reversed and Yuuri was the one chasing after him for answers and wound up on his parents’ doorstep they would have known who he was and why he had flown halfway around the world to find Viktor.

But the longer he looks at the confusion and... _disbelief_ in Mari’s eyes he realizes with a sharp pang in his chest that Yuuri hasn’t told his family.

 _Yuuri hasn’t told them_.

 

. . .  

 

Later, he can’t recall what reason he gave Mari why he’s here of all places after wrapping up another season. In fact, that last hour is one massive blur as he handed over his card, asked for a room and Yuuri’s wonderfully sweet parents quickly cleared out an old banquet room for him to stay in.

A room that’s right next to Yuuri’s as his soulmate’s mother had happily pointed out in her heavily accented English as she led him upstairs.

She also was kind enough to point out where the baths were along with the public dining room and gardens. It had become clear that Yuuri’s mother isn’t fluent in English, that she only knows enough to have the kind of conversation they did with guests before informing him that her daughter and son spoke far better English than herself and if he needs anything please don’t hesitate to find them.

Just before she had turned to head back downstairs she’d taken his hand into hers and gently patted it. A motion so similar to his what own mother used to do when he was a child that he couldn’t help but feel comforted by it. “Yu-chan will be happy you are here!”

He’s beginning to doubt that and he isn’t sure what to do with that doubt.  

The baths are extremely tempting to slip into, his muscles are sore from Worlds and the immediate turn around after competition finished to jump on a plane to get to Yuuri. But he doesn’t want Yuuri to catch him there of all places when he finally gets back home from the rink.

Or well, Mari assumed Yuuri’s at the rink. Apparently, Yuuri had dashed out that evening in a hurry and none of them had really caught where he had run off too.

So, instead, he makes his way into the gardens. He’s sure it’s a beautiful place to sit when snow doesn’t cover nearly every inch of it but for now, it’s at least a quiet place to think. A place where he can try to piece together what he wants to say before seeking Yuuri out because he certainly needs to process what he learned today that’s for sure.

“Viktor?”

Fate seems to enjoy messing with him, however.

He freezes where he sits when Yuuri’s voice reaches his ears. All the confidence he had carefully carried with him to Yutopia suddenly disappears at Yuuri’s bewildered tone.

Silence drapes over them, heavy and suffocating and he realizes he isn’t ready to talk even though he finally, finally has Yuuri within reach for the first time since they met. So, he stands as smoothly as possible, turns and flashes Yuuri the same smile he uses for the press. “Oh, hi Yuuri! I was just about to head up to my room. I’m very tired you see! I’ve had a long few days. So, I’ll see you in the morning!”

Yuuri doesn’t stop him as he rushes out of the gardens.

 

. . .  

 

He’s woken up by a gentle knocking on his door. For a few moments he forgets where he is and what happened the night before but when he hears a soft, hesitant “Viktor?” on the other side it rushes back. Though, the pain of realizing Yuuri hasn’t told his family what they are to each other is dulled by the shock of realizing it’s Yuuri knocking.

“We’re, um, having breakfast downstairs if you’d like to join us. The private dining room is next to the kitchen.”

And just as quickly as he had arrived, Yuuri’s gone.

He can eat breakfast with Yuuri and his family. It isn’t anything overly complicated. He’s certainly been in far more awkward situations over his twenty-seven years. Plus, it’s exactly what he came to Hasetsu for, to be close to Yuuri, to understand where he grew up.

Though, he always thought they would be speaking to each other whenever he’d imagine this very scenario.

The Katsuki’s are already settled down and eating when he arrives several minutes later. Yuuri’s parents shoot him warm smiles that immediately help him feel a little more at ease. The only open space to sit is next to Yuuri and just a day ago he wouldn’t have blinked, would have sat next to his soulmate without any hesitation.

Today, however, he pauses and catches Yuuri’s gaze to make sure it’s okay, that he’s welcome.

A beautiful blush colors Yuuri’s cheeks as he nods ever so slightly and the sight of warmed cheeks give him a little bit of hope back. Yuuri doesn’t seem angry that he just showed up unannounced, he hasn’t been asked to pack up his things and go back to Russia.

Yet.

That word leaves an unpleasant taste on his tongue that even breakfast can’t get rid of.

Yuuri’s parents are incredibly kind and even though their English isn’t nearly as fluent as their children’s they still make an effort to include him in on conversations, asking him about Russia and Makkachin and if he managed to walk by the rink on his way from the station.

It’s remarkable how kind they are. How they embrace him into their lives without demanding answers as to why he’s suddenly here. He wonders if Yuuri had been forced to tell them the truth, to admit that the Words written across his wrist are Viktor’s and that they met months ago now.

A quick glance over to Yuuri who has donned long sleeves for the day tells him, no it doesn’t seem like they know.

Somehow he and Yuuri find themselves left alone in the dining room and Viktor feels like it’s the morning after the GPF banquet all over again. Yuuri can’t look him in the eye, can’t even look in his direction at all and it seems as though he’s ready to bolt from the room if given the smallest of excuses.

What has he done? That’s all he wants to know so he can apologize and explain he hadn’t meant to hurt Yuuri, hadn’t meant to do anything that would cause this tension between them.

“Yuuri…” he starts but trails off when Yuuri flinches and sits up straighter.

Their dishes had been cleared away by Yuuri’s mother at her insistence and he can see that Yuuri wishes he had something to occupy his hands with based on the way they curl and uncurl against his thighs.

It’s almost physically painful to resist reaching out and taking those warm, strong hands into his own and attempting to settle Yuuri’s emotions.

“I can’t do this,” Yuuri says abruptly as he scrambles to his feet.

His heart twists sharply at the words and he tries to keep his pain to himself, tries to keep it from marring his face but he must’ve failed because when Yuuri looks down at him he makes a choked noise. “I - no, I just meant - beach, we’re going to the beach.”

He blinks as Yuuri flees from the room.

 

. . .  

 

It’s early enough in Spring that by the time he and Yuuri get to the beach there isn’t another soul in sight. The water’s a washed out gray several shades darker than the gray sky that hanging above their heads. A truly dreary day for going to the beach but it’s extremely fitting for the mood that wraps around him with each step he takes beside Yuuri.

They sit in the sand and he’s thankful that Yuuri hadn’t given him the chance to change out of his sweatpants and jacket and into nicer clothes. For a long while neither of them say anything, instead they just stare out at the water as it races against the shoreline as if stuck in an endless dance.

“Yuuri,” he says, voice cracking slightly thanks to his dry throat. “Did I do something wrong?”

Yuuri’s breath hitches beside him and he forces himself to keep his eyes on the water, to keep himself from looking to his left and catching whatever expression that’s crept across the other man’s face. He isn’t sure his heart can take whatever he would find.

“Did you…?”

Two words said in a way that he can only be interpreted as stunned. Like Yuuri hadn’t expected him to open his mouth and ask that particular question.

When he does gain the courage to look over, Yuuri looks pained. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Viktor.”

Now it’s his turn to feel stunned. “Then why did you stop talking to me after Four Continents?” he breathes.

Things had been going so well until that competition. Yuuri had been opening up more and more each time they talked, had seemed less flustered whenever he woke Yuuri up with a phone call instead of his alarm.

Has he come on too strong? Is he too much? Does Yuuri think they share a purely platonic bond and hasn’t been sure how to break it to him?

Or maybe the legends are true and he has no soul and Yuuri’s decided to cut his losses and move on from being burdened with a soulmate who can never give him what he wants.

Maybe he really is truly unlovable.

“I was ashamed and embarrassed after Four Continents. I couldn’t - I didn’t want to face your disappointment. You - you wanted me to go to Worlds with you so badly and I didn’t…”

He blinks and his mind skips like a scratched CD over a single word.

_Disappointment._

Yuuri shifts until he’s curled forward and hiding against his drawn knees. Viktor can practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off the beautiful, stunning, amazing man next to him. “So, I stopped talking to you...pushed you away because I - I didn’t want you to see my shortcomings any more than you already had.”

He sits there stunned, confused and a jumbled up mess of emotions as Yuuri’s words sink into his heart.

“I wasn’t disappointed in you, Yuuri. Yes, it would have been wonderful to go to Worlds together but there’s next year. We have plenty of chances to compete with each other next season,” he finally says because it’s the truth.

Katsuki Yuuri is an enigma, a gorgeous, kind and breathtaking enigma granted but he feels completely out of his depth again when facing the realities of Yuuri’s anxiety and insecurities. Of all the answers to that question he’s conjured up over the weeks, the one he received isn’t one he had even allowed himself to entertain.

He had been so certain he was the cause for Yuuri’s silence.

It isn’t until Yuuri’s shoulders tense that he realizes what he said. Next season. And even though just yesterday morning he had told Chris and Leon he wasn’t sure if he would be competing again he desperately wants to. He just can’t take another season feeling empty and lackluster again.

But with Yuuri? He feels happier, feels inspired, feels like he’s on top of the world.

“I don’t even know if I’ll be competing next season, Viktor.”

Again, he finds himself stunned by the words that leave Yuuri’s mouth. Of course, he had heard that Yuuri and Celestino had decided to part ways and frankly, Viktor thinks it was a good decision. Celestino’s a great coach but he never pushed Yuuri to his true potential.

“Why?” he asks, voice pitched low and he hopes it’s coming off as gentle as his mama’s whenever she tries to navigate his tangled web of emotions.

Yuuri barks a laugh that sounds far too bitter for his twenty-three years. “Because I have no coach, I let myself get out of shape and I have no ideas for any programs to even start piecing together to show potential coaches. Who would want to coach me anyway? I finally made it to the Grand Prix Final and I failed because I let my nerves get to me and couldn’t hold off grieving for Vicchan until after the competition was done like I should have.”

There is so much to unpack from Yuuri’s rant that he almost doesn’t know where to start. “Grieve for Vicchan?” he settles on asking because well, that certainly seems like the most important bit of information Yuuri has thrown at him.

“He was my dog. Mari took him to a park and he ran off chasing seagulls. By the time she noticed the car it was too late…”

Oh.

Oh, Yuuri.

The ache to touch, to reach out and pull Yuuri into his arms and comfort him is overwhelming but Yuuri still looks incredibly tense so he keeps his hands at his sides and prays his silent support will be enough.

“If Makkachin had…” he trails off and takes a deep breath to hopefully center his thoughts. “Yuuri, I wouldn’t have skated well either. I know for a fact if Christophe’s cat passed away suddenly he would’ve been a wreck too.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “You two still would’ve medalled though. Everyone keeps telling me how proud of me they are but I failed them and myself. So how can they be proud?”

While he wants to dispute Yuuri’s claim that he would’ve medalled at the GPF even if Makkachin had died suddenly, he can’t. He might not know exactly what to say Yuuri right now but he knows enough to keep that particular rebuttal to himself. It would only agitate Yuuri further.

“They are though, Yuuri,” he says softly. “Hasetsu is proud of you too and so is Japan. They wouldn’t call you their Ace if they thought you didn’t deserve it.”

And somehow, he watches Yuuri tense even further. “That just makes me feel worse!” he snaps which sends Viktor reeling through another confusing tangle of emotions. “They’re putting their faith in me and I can’t deliver. They deserve someone better, someone who isn’t weak.”

He’s no stranger to the pressure of being your country’s shining beacon of hope, of the expectations placed upon your shoulders to perform, to become their champion. Viktor has pushed himself and toed the line of his breaking point for over a decade to meet those expectations.

Somehow though, he’s forgotten how terrifying it can be.

“You’re not weak, Yuuri,” he says and hopes Yuuri can hear the truth and conviction in his tone. “No one thinks that. It’s not easy being your country’s champion, I know, but you’re handling it better than you think.”

Some of the tension leaves Yuuri’s shoulders but he can’t be sure if it’s because his soulmate believes him or if he’s wilting the same way he had the morning after the GPF banquet in the face of all those Russian reporters. “Not as well as you,” Yuuri finally mutters, voice slightly muffled against his knees.

He turns to look at the ocean again and the smile that tugs at his lips feel hollow as he says, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuuri jerk upright and stare at him in confusion. He knows the question Yuuri wants to ask. So, he lets out a sigh and figures it’s only fair to bare a little bit of his own soul in return.

“My struggles are just different than yours, but they’re still there Yuuri,” he says and falls quiet as he tries to figure out exactly how to word what he’s felt the last several years.

Yuuri, the compassionate, beautiful man that he is, remains silent and lets him gather his thoughts. There’s no pressure between them for Viktor to answer the likely dozens of questions that rattle around Yuuri’s mind and Viktor is incredibly grateful.

“Skating became a way for me to run away from my fear of the possibility I may never getting to meet you,” he finally settles on saying because well the beginning is always a good place to start right? “I was ten when it really hit me that my parents never got to meet their soulmates and I had been skating for a while by then. But it was after that that I really threw myself into it. By the time I hit Juniors and began winning competitions it was clear that everyone saw me as the future of Russian figure skating.”

He closes his eyes as memories wash over him, ones he hasn’t dredged up in years and others he never planned on revisiting but he wants Yuuri to hear them. Needs Yuuri to understand.

“It was honestly overwhelming but I loved skating and I was far more terrified of confronting my fears about you so I embraced the pressure of the role. After my second consecutive Grand Prix win though, everyone’s expectations shifted and I wasn’t just the champion of the RFS but figure skating as a whole,” he says this part with a shrug. “I think that was the beginning of when things started to get bad.”

He pauses and takes a deep breath to center himself. It doesn’t work as well as he hoped.

Whether Yuuri realizes that or sees something else, Viktor doesn’t know but either way, he sighs in relief when he feels Yuuri’s hand slipping into his own. “Bad?” the question is hesitant as if Yuuri worries it’ll tip him over an edge he can’t see.

“It didn’t happen right away but the longer I become whatever person Russia or my fans wanted me to be, I...lost everything that made me love the ice and the sport. If it wasn’t for Yakov I probably would have retired two seasons ago. Everything felt so...empty on and off the ice. Nothing seemed to really matter anymore.”

And there’s the truth, materialized outside the confinements of his own mind. The weight of it sits heavy on his shoulders but for the first time in years, he feels like maybe, just maybe he can handle it.

Yuuri sucks in a sharp breath beside him and his shock’s reinforced when he squeezes Viktor’s hand. “Everyone’s tried to help, they genuinely have but I think they’ve also been afraid to say it out loud.”

“Viktor…”

He shakes his head and squeezes Yuuri’s hand again as he focuses on the way the waves wash against the shore. “So, I understand Yuuri. In different ways, of course, because anxiety and depression aren’t the same but I _do_ understand.”

Silence settles over them after he finishes speaking and a large part of him is desperate to fill it, to move on from such heavy, soul-baring topics because it’s honestly terrifying opening up to Yuuri. They don’t know each other well, but they had been getting there and they’re friends (or he likes to think they are at least). This is how people grow closer right?

And at the end of the day, that’s all he wants. Growing closer to Yuuri in whatever way the other man’s comfortable with.

“I doubt this was what you imagined it would be like when we finally got to see each other again, huh?” Yuuri says and for the first time since he’s arrived, Viktor can hear lighter notes in Yuuri’s voice.

It pulls a far more genuine smile from his lips as laughter bubbles up his throat. “I most _certainly_ did imagine us sitting on a beach and admitting that I have depression! Yuuri, what kind of man do you take me for?”

Yuuri’s laughter is like someone has bottled up the warmth of the sun and poured it directly into his heart.

After a beat, Yuuri says, “I just want you to be Viktor.”

The words finally draw his gaze away from the ocean and the expression on Yuuri’s face causes his breath to catch in his chest. “What?”

Yuuri’s smile softens. “You said you tried to be whoever Russia or your fans wanted you to be. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself with me. Just be Viktor.”

His jaw drops before he can stop it because well, no one has ever said those words to him. At least not outside of his parents but that isn’t the same.

And oh, he’s going to fall so hard for this man. He’s already been falling from the moment Yuuri swept him into his arms and literally whisked him off his feet but there’s no end to it now. No, in this very moment he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life falling more and more in love with Yuuri.

“I can do that.”

 

. . .  

 

“You haven’t been in the springs yet?”

Yuuri looks genuinely surprised when he admits the only things he managed to do the night before was arrive, try to process the fact Yuuri hasn’t told his family about them and sit in the gardens before fleeing back to his room.

Guilt’s written into Yuuri’s expression but it only lasts a few seconds before warm fingers wrap around his wrist and yank him downstairs.

And the moment he sinks into the hot water he instantly regrets not doing it sooner.

“I want to live right here for the rest of my life. Yuuri! Bring my things down, I’m never leaving!” he exclaims.

Yuuri laughs from where he sits across from him and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

Things are going much better since their talk on the beach that morning and he’s so grateful for it. They still had a lot to discuss but the heaviness that weighed on his heart since Four Continents is gone. There will be time to get to everything else. For now, he wants to enjoy the moment.

It also gives him the perfect excuse to look at Yuuri’s adorable squishy tummy and soft thighs and he isn’t about to ruin the contentment between them with heavy words again.

They don’t fill the silence between them and he relaxes against the smooth rocks against his back. Yuuri’s incredibly lucky he got to grow up with these hot springs literally in his home and that he can take a dip whenever he feels like it.

He loves Russia, don’t get him wrong. He adores the way St. Petersburg looks after the first snowfall of the season, loves the way it blooms with life as winter melts away to spring, loves the history behind his city but well, these hot springs are absolutely heavenly.

“How long are you staying?”

Yuuri’s voice pulls him from the light doze he had slipped into and his soulmate looks a little sheepish for startling him. Well, he had planned to broach that particular question later but if Yuuri wants to talk about it now he isn’t going to try and change topics.

“As long as you’ll let me,” he answers. “I don’t have any ice shows booked for the offseason so I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

He refrains from fidgeting as he watches Yuuri’s eyes widen slightly before he asks, “You have no ice shows at all?”

It’s true he usually does at least a handful of charity shows every off-season and they tend to take him all over the place much to Yakov chagrin so he understands Yuuri’s surprise. “I’m hoping to spend it with you,” he says.

Ah, there’s that beautiful blush he’s missed dearly since the banquet. “Well, um, stay as long as you want to then. But wait, what about Makkachin?”

He lifts a hand out of the water and waves it at Yuuri as if he can physically swat away his soulmate’s concerns. If it was only that easy. “I’ll just have little Yuri bring her! I’m sure I can convince Yakov that a mini-vacation will do him some good.”

Yuuri snorts and he cracks a grin at the sound. “If you somehow manage to convince Yuri Plisetsky to fly all the way here with your dog I’ll show you all my embarrassing baby photos myself.”

He immediately sits up straighter and swims until he’s pressed against Yuuri’s side (his naked, naked side) and grabs Yuuri’s pruning hands. “Is that a promise?” he asks and does absolutely nothing to hide the shameless excitement in his voice at the idea of seeing adorable baby Yuuri pictures. They’re to be treasured after all!

Yuuri’s eyes narrow slightly but he shrugs after a couple moments. “Sure, I doubt he’ll actually be willing to come to my house after telling me to retire at Sochi so go ahead and try.”

He gasps and reels back slightly as the words hit him. “He did what?”

Yuuri shrugs again. “Yeah, he found me in the bathroom, though maybe he followed me in there now that I think about it, anyway, he heard me crying, called me a loser and said there was only room for one Yuri in the senior division.”

Well. That certainly sounds like Yura.

Shaking his head he waves his hand through the air again, this time though for effect. “No matter! I hope your mother kept lots of baby Yuuri pictures! I can’t wait to see them, I wonder if I can get Yura here by tomorrow…”

The alarmed look on Yuuri’s face is priceless.

 

. . .  

 

Yuri does not, in fact, show up the next day but the angry teenager does show up the day after with an over the moon Makkachin at his heels.

But when the front door to the onsen slams open by a jetlagged Yuri, Makkachin doesn’t run to him. Oh no, his adorable puppy beelines for Yuuri and bowls him over in the process. Yuuri really stands no chance the moment he falls to the floor and is immediately given a dozen Makkachin kisses.

His heart simultaneously breaks and swells at the sight.

“Makkaaaaachin,” he whines as he sinks down to a dramatic heap beside his two favorite beings on the whole planet. “How could you betray your papa like this!”

Yuri grunts in annoyance somewhere behind him but Yuuri laughs and pats his shoulder soothingly. “I guess dogs just like me better than you,” he teases.

The glint in Yuuri’s eyes pulls laughter from his lips and the sound causes Makkachin to turn and flop excitedly against him as well so she can pepper him in kisses too. He welcomes them happily and coos to her in soft Russian.

“Get off the floor and show me my room, asshole!”

How can so much teenage rage and angst be holed up in little Yura is beyond him but he shoots the teenager a beaming smile all the same. “Yura!” he coos as well, knowing it’ll irritate the boy further. “Thank you for bringing Makkachin!”

While it’s tempting to see what Yuri will do if he wraps him up in a hug he also doesn’t want to be the cause of any destruction in the onsen.

Yuri glares at him as if he can read Viktor’s thoughts which only makes his grin all the cheekier.

“Pfft, whatever. I just came for the program you promised me, old man!”

He blinks. Program?

Yuri’s expression darkens and at the sight of it Yuuri scrambles quickly to his feet. “Your room is just upstairs, I’m sorry it’s not very big but, um yeah. I’ll show you where it is!”

Yuuri’s completely ignored. Which only causes his soulmate to fidget beside him as he continues to sit on the floor with Makkachin trying to find the memory where he made such a promise to little Yuri. It _does_ sound like something he’d promise, frankly, but he can’t pinpoint when he made it in the first place.

Yuri kicks his thigh harshly. “Did you seriously forget? Typical! You promised to choreograph my senior debut if I won Juniors without any quads, which I did! So you better pay up, geezer!”

And with that said he storms off with Yuuri on his heels.

He turns to look at Makkachin who sits happily next to him and is completely unfazed by what she just witnessed. “Well, this trip just got a little more interesting!”

Makkachin’s only response is a soft _boof_ and excited tail wagging.

 

. . .  

 

Yuri Plisetsky is an absolute hellion and he silently curses his past self for ever making a promise to choreograph the teenager’s senior debut. He knows why he did it of course, once he actually remembers said promise as he pieces together a short program long after they all retired for the night.

He had hoped helping young Yura would make him feel like he used to on the ice.

Currently, he’s sitting in the middle of his bed with his laptop open beside him and a notebook in his lap as he jots down ideas based on what he knows of Yuri’s strengths and weaknesses. Just as he starts to reach for his headphones so he can listen to some songs without disturbing the others there’s a soft knock jarring him from his thoughts.

A second later, Yuuri pokes his head inside looking incredibly soft and sleepy and he barely resists the urge to coo at the sight of the other man. “I brought you some tea,” he says through a yawn.

Katsuki Yuuri is truly a menace to his heart rate.

There’s no stopping the beaming smile that pulls at his lips as he pats the open space beside him. Yuuri hesitates for a brief second before he stepping fully into the room and gently shutting the door behind him while trying to balance the cup of tea in his hands. “I didn’t know what kind of jam you like so it’s just plain tea, sorry.”

He’s so gone for this man. “You know about that?” he asks, genuinely surprised as he reaches up to take the tea from Yuuri’s hands.

Yuuri’s cheeks color a beautiful pink as he fidgets at the end of the bed. “You mentioned it in an interview once…”

There’s a beat of silence as he processes yet again just how deep Yuuri’s admiration runs and once more he can’t help but feel incredibly flattered and honored that this beautiful, stunning and wonderful man considers him a worthy idol.

“Though, honestly I don’t understand why you have to go and ruin perfectly good tea.”

He mock gasps, doing absolutely nothing to hide how much he loves Yuuri’s gentle teasing. “My soulmate! So mean! I am just a humble man who wants to do nothing more than enjoy his jam-sweetened tea!” he cries and clutches his shirt just above his heart with his free hand.

Yuuri snorts and rolls his eyes which only makes him grin wider. “Are you always so dramatic?”

He shoots Yuuri a cheeky smile as he takes a quick, cursory sip of his tea to test how hot it is. He flinches slightly as the water burns his tongue and lowers it back down to his lap. “I would say no, not always but I think Yuri and the rest of my rinkmates would disagree with that,” he admits with a chuckle.

He feels like the world has righted itself the moment he sees Yuuri’s soft smile. “I’m sure they would. Speaking of, how’s Yurio’s program coming along?”

Yurio?

It’s cute and he’ll have to remember to ask how that nickname came to life later. Because he’s sure Yura will hate it and he can’t wait to laugh at the look on the teenager’s face when he’s called that. For now, he picks up his notebook and plops it in Yuuri’s hands. “This is what I have so far. Nothing too concrete I was about to start listening to some songs if you want to join me?”

Yuuri bites his lip and just as he’s about to retract the offer so he doesn’t make the other man uncomfortable, Yuuri nods and gingerly sits down at the edge of the bed. He stares in complete amusement as he takes another experimental sip of his tea. “I don’t bite, I promise,” he finally says once it’s clear that Yuuri isn’t going to move further onto the bed.

A small part of him wishes Yuuri felt as comfortable around him as he had been when drunk off champagne at the banquet and if he knew back then while they danced that it would be a very, very long time before he would feel Yuuri’s arms around him again he would have cherished the moment more.

When Yuuri finally settles next to him, he’s tense but shoots him a smile when handed one of the earbuds. “Alright!” he says brightly as he navigates through his music until he finds the first arrangement and presses play.

And that’s how they spend the next half hour or so, listening to his eclectic collection of songs and arrangements until Yuuri starts to yawn nearly every minute.

Clearly, he must’ve done something right in a past life to have been blessed with such an adorable man as his soulmate. He doesn’t even try to hide his fond smile as he turns to look at Yuuri. “Last two pieces I promise.”

Yuuri returns his smile and his heart soars.

They listen to _On Love: Eros_ and _On Love: Agape_ and before they finish the second arrangement he can already see how each piece will look on the ice. Yuuri seems to like them as well because he sits up a little straighter and the yawning slows significantly.

Once the music ends, Yuuri turns to look at him. “It’s gotta be one of those. They’d both be great short program pieces.”

He beams and quickly replays _On Love: Eros._ This time though he closed his eyes and lets the program play itself out in his mind, where the step sequence will go, which spins will embody the essence of the song and where the jumps will go as well.

As it comes to an end for the second time he quickly snatches his notebook back up and begins to translate what he saw in his mind onto paper. It isn’t his favorite method but they aren’t at the rink so it’ll have to do until the morning.

“Wow,” Yuuri says softly, gently knocking him from his thoughts.

He glances up, “Hmm?” he hums in reply before his gaze drops back down to the notebook.

“Nothing, it’s just...I’ve always wondered what your process was like for creating programs. I just never pictured the adorable pinch between your eyebrows or how your eyes get all bright.”

Well, that’s certainly enough to drag him completely from his thoughts and he blinks at Yuuri owlishly. Did...did Yuuri just call him adorable?

Whatever Yuuri sees in his expression makes him flush and wave his hands in the air quickly. “N-not that that’s bad! It um, it just makes you look more human I guess? Not that you aren’t human, that is, of course you are but I guess what I’m trying to say is you look, um, approachable?”

He finds himself completely stunned.

Yuuri wilts in the silence that follows his words and he desperately tries to reboot his mind so he can remember how to form words and actually speak them.

“I’m sorry, just ignore that I said any of that…”

He’s going to combust if he doesn’t hug Yuuri right now. And as soon as that realization crosses his mind he’s throwing his arms open and pulling Yuuri into the tightest embrace he can manage at the awkward angle.

Yuuri makes a noise of surprise but thankfully doesn’t tense or push him away. “Viktor?”

Right, words. He can say them. He’s twenty-seven years old, he’s been speaking three languages since he was a child. “Thank you,” he mumbles against the crown of Yuuri’s head. “You are a very sweet man, Yuuri.”

He can tell Yuuri’s confused but Viktor doesn’t know how to articulate what he feels in any of the languages he knows. Honestly, he isn’t completely sure why they pulled such a strong reaction out of him but it’s late and they’re talking again and he’s _happy_ so he isn’t going to try and figure it out.

Gradually, Yuuri relaxes completely in his arms and he lets out a sigh of contentment when the other man shifts so they’re more comfortable and wraps an arm around his waist.

It feels so right to be in each other's arms like this.

“I think you should give Yuri the agape piece,” Yuuri says and then immediately yawns. “He’ll have too easy of a time with Eros what with all that teenage rage he has.”

He lets out a rather undignified snort at the words. Before he can feel embarrassed by it though, Yuuri’s warm laughter fills the room and he can’t help himself as he presses a smile into Yuuri’s messy hair. “I was thinking the same thing. Make sure to get a picture of his face when I tell him.”

“Only if you promise to take care of me after Yurio breaks my face for taking it.”

They laugh so loud it wakes Yuri up and he’s so very thankful their rooms are far away from the other guests when Yuri starts cursing in colorful Russian and banging on the wall separating them.

 

. . .

 

Ice Castle Hasetsu looks worn down on the outside but the moment he walks inside, Viktor can tell it’s a place that’s well loved by the owners and those who skate here. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Yuuri’s eyes brighten and how he walks a little taller and can’t help but smile as he realizes this is a sacred space for his soulmate.

“Girls wait!”

The words barely register in his mind before he suddenly has three girls who can’t be older than five or six clutching his legs. “So it’s true! You’re Uncle Yuuri’s soulmate! Can we see your Words?”

Well. Okay. That’s not what he was expecting to hear.

He looks up to catch Yuuri’s expression only to find fond but exasperated amusement written into his features. It’s clear he expected nothing less from these girls who call him Uncle (is the woman who’s rushing from around the counter another sister? Wait no she has to be Yuuko, Yuuri’s definitely told him about her a few times).

When Yuuri catches his gaze, the other man simply shrugs though his cheeks are a bright, adorable red. “They make sure to stay up to date on all the skating gossip,” Yuuri explains. “You walking in here just basically confirmed all the rumors about us.”

Ah yes, the rumors. He _definitely_ knows about those and had somehow managed to dodge giving an official answer to the one question he got at Nationals, Europeans, and Worlds.

Yuri scoffs somewhere behind them and oh right they had come here for a reason. He smiles down at the girls who had started to excitedly babble in Japanese and only managed to pick out a few words.

“If Yuuri is okay with it I can show you my Words after we’re done practicing, how does that sound?” he asks brightly because he’s proud of his Words, would gladly show them off with pride if he knew it wouldn’t make Yuuri uncomfortable.

They squeal even louder and he chuckles as Yuuko finally manages to pull the girls away. Immediately they latch onto Yuuri instead and even though he can’t understand any of the words they’re saying he knows from Yuuri’s expression that they’re doing their best to get him to cave in.

It only takes two minutes for Yuuri’s resolve to crack.

“I don’t know why he even tries to tell them no,” Yuuko says beside him, clearly amused by her daughters antics. Not that he can blame her, they were absolutely adorable. “They learned pretty quickly that even over Skype calls if all three of them give him what he calls a puppy dog look he’ll give them whatever they want.”

He laughs then and Yuuri looks up to shoot him a sweet smile over the triplet’s heads and he’s hopelessly gone over this man because he doesn’t hesitate to return it.

“You two are disgusting,” Yura yells beside him which turns out to be a mistake when the three girls peel their gazes away from Yuuri and look at the blond teenager with manic glee in their eyes.

Yura’s eyes widen in comprehension and moves to dart to the rink but even Viktor can see he’s not making much of an effort to truly get away. “It seems Yura has a soft spot for kids,” he says when Yuuri comes to stand beside him. “Who knew.”

Yuuri laughed as he shook his head. “I want to say I’m surprised but I don’t think I really am. He _is_ closer in age to them than he is to you after all.”

He hums thoughtfully and moves to follow Yura, the triplets, and Yuuko who’s still attempting to corral her daughters though clearly, she seems to have a fondness for the teenager as well. Somehow that boy manages to worm his way into everyone’s heart despite his prickly attitude.

“I want to show you something later,” Yuuri says before they step through the doors that lead to the rink and he turns, surprised by the words. “After everyone else leaves.”

He raises an eyebrow at that because what on Earth could Yuuri have to show him that required them to be completely alone? Of course, his brain unhelpfully supplies numerous ideas that aren’t kid friendly in the slightest and he wishes he could physically slap the images of himself on his knees before Yuuri, both still in their skates on the ice.

No, this is not the time or place for those. He doesn’t even know for certain if Yuuri is interested in him that way.

(He likes to think Yuuri is though if the way he didn’t flinch away from him in the hot springs and sank further into his arms when they had been in his room the night before. But he can’t bring himself to hope too fiercely.

He’ll be happy with whatever Yuuri is willing to give.)

 

. . .

 

“I always knew you’d be a big fucking sap when you finally met your soulmate,” Yura growls from beside him as he unties his skates.

He turns to look at the teenager in amusement which only seems to make Yura angrier. “Are you saying you won’t be when you meet yours?” he asks already knowing what the answer likely is.

And right on cue Yura bristles and snaps, “I won’t shove it in everyone’s faces like you, old man!”

“You didn’t have to come,” he says and leans back onto his hands to watch Yuuri skate around on the other side of the rink with the triplets and Yuuko’s husband. (Takeshi maybe? He really needs to get better at remembering things.)

Yura scoffs as he shoves his feet into his boots and gently places his skates into his bag. “Of course I did!” he says, voice considerably lower than it had been moments ago. “Georgi is a walking disaster and Mila would’ve gotten too distracted texting her dumb soulmate to keep an eye on your ridiculous dog.”

Mentally, he translates Yura’s words into:  _As if I’d trust anyone else to bring Makkachin here safely_.

He wisely chooses not to comment on that however and instead turns to look at the teenager again. “You remember how to get back right?” he asks.

Yura just rolls his eyes and zips up his bag. “I found it on my own when I first got here or is your memory really getting that bad?”

He hums and tries his best to shrug despite the way he was sitting. “Apparently so,” he says and does nothing to hide the teasing tone coloring his voice.

Just as he watches Yuuko and Takeshi (?) wrangle the girls off the ice for the day Yura stands and begins to walk away with a huff. Viktor can hear him stop even though he’s out of sight by now so he expects one last biting retort before the teen goes to relax for the rest of the evening.

“I guess your stupid sappy face isn’t as gross to look at as your ugly sad one. Your skating sucks less too.”

Yura’s already turning around and pushing the doors to the lobby open so all he can do is stare at Yura’s retreating back in shock. He isn’t sure what to do with the realization he apparently did a horrible job at hiding his depression and his stomach twists with an emotion he can’t really name as the triplets rush up to him.

“Uncle Vicchan! Uncle Vicchan! Can you show us now?”

When he looks up to catch Yuuri’s gaze as he stands at the boards closest to them he’s surprised to only find a faint blush on his cheeks paired with a pleased smile dancing across his lips.

His heart warms as he looks back down at the girls and pulls the collar of his shirt down low enough for the black Words to be easily seen. The immediately squeal and begin taking pictures despite their parent's protests behind them. “They’re so pretty!” one of them shouts. (Maybe Axel?)

“Uncle Yuuri you really said that?”

Yuuri’s blush deepens slightly but his smile only grows sweeter. “I did.”

This sets off another bout of squealing and excited whispers in rapid Japanese that he had no hopes of following despite the progress he’s made over the last few months learning Yuuri’s native language.

Yuuko clucks from above the girls and swiftly snatches away their phones. “C’mon girls it’s time to go home and eat dinner. Say goodbye to Yuuri and Viktor.”

The three of them pout and wow he can certainly see why Yuuri’s resolve cracks so quickly under those expressions. They’ve certainly mastered the so-called ‘puppy dog look’ as Yuuri described. Fortunately, it seems Yuuko is immune to this look and they’re quickly showered with goodbyes before the girls follow their mother out.

“You remember how to lock up right Yuuri?” Takeshi asks from where he holds the door open for his wife and daughters.

Yuuri rolls his eyes and gives Takeshi a pointed look. “I promise I didn’t magically forget how while I was gone for five years.”

It’s interesting to see this side to Yuuri, the one that’s comfortable in his own skin, surrounded by people he loves and cares for, who love and care for him in return.

He hopes desperately one day he’ll become one of those people to Yuuri as well.

Takeshi just laughs. “Okay, okay. Have fun you two!” And just like that he’s waving at them and disappearing into the lobby leaving them alone.

He turns to look at Yuuri then, suddenly nervous even though he doesn't really understand why. This is Yuuri and his soulmate has accepted who he is every step of the way and whatever Yuuri has to show him likely won’t be anything bad.

Yuuri looks nervous as well so he stands and reaches out to grab onto one of his hands. This turns out to be a good decision because Yuuri tugs him forward until he’s unbalanced on his skates and is pulled into a tight embrace.

“Please don’t take your eyes off me,” Yuuri whispers and there’s nothing he can do to stop the shiver racing down his spine as he feels Yuuri’s lips caress his ear.

He nods and immediately misses Yuuri’s warm as the other man pulls away and skates backward until he’s centered on the ice.

Then Yuuri moves into a familiar starting pose and his heart races and his breath catches in his chest because - _oh_.

There’s no music but he’s practiced this routine enough without it to know Yuuri’s about to perform his free skate routine from the season that just finished. The one he created in a lonely St. Petersburg rink that used to feel like home but no longer did.

He watches Yuuri skate, wide-eyed and completely breathless.

Even if he had the desire to ever look away from Yuuri (which he doesn’t) he wouldn’t be able to look away from the ethereal being his soulmate has become out on the ice. Tears sting his eyes and he lets them fall so that he won’t miss a single moment of Yuuri’s skating.

If he wasn’t completely transfixed he probably would’ve been reduced to a weeping mess the moment Yuuri threw himself into a beautiful quadruple flip.

How long has Yuuri been practicing this?

The end to the program comes seems to come quickly after that and Yuuri strikes the ending pose, chest heaving from exertion but he breaks it only a couple seconds later and quickly skates back over to him. By now Viktor has buried his face in his hands as his emotions wash over him.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice is hesitant and unsure and he wants to desperately fix whatever doubts are floating around in his soulmate’s mind but he simply can’t.

A sob crawls up his throat and he does his best to keep it quiet but it sounds loud even to his ears and his shoulders shake with it. Somewhere above him, he hears Yuuri suck in a sharp breath and then fumbling movements that must be Yuuri stepping off the ice and hastily pulling on his skate guards.

There’s a warm hand on his shoulder in the next moment and he immediately leans into the touch. “Viktor, what’s wrong?”

Yuuri’s voice is soft and gentle and full of concern which only makes the tears fall faster. He doesn’t deserve this beautiful man, can never be enough for him because somehow even though he had been so afraid to disappoint Viktor he still worked on learning a routine that in many ways was created for _him_.

Not that Viktor had known it was for Yuuri specifically at the time but now that he’s seen Yuuri skate it he knows without a doubt that it was.

He glances up then and can’t bring himself to care that he must look like a complete mess. Yuuri’s eyes widen slightly and he rushes to brush away Viktor’s tears with his gloved hands. He leans into the touch, wishing desperately that Yuuri had taken them off in his haste to get off the ice.

“How did I get so lucky?” he manages to ask.

Yuuri’s hands still for only a second but it’s long enough that he notices. Just as he’s about to pull away thinking he’s clearly making the other man uncomfortable Yuuri reaches up with his free hand and cradles his face. “I ask myself the same thing every day,” he whispers.

Viktor can’t help the small chuckle the escapes him at the words. “What a pair we are.”

Yuuri’s smile is warm as he leans up slightly to rest their foreheads together. “A couple of blubbering messes?” he teases and it’s only then that Viktor notices Yuuri has begun to cry as well.

They’re silent then and let their tears run their course until finally their cheeks are only damp instead of drenched and their eyes are puffy and red. As Yuuri’s eyes flutter open again he has the overwhelming desire to kiss Yuuri senseless but now isn’t the time or place.

But something tells him there will be. Someday.

“C’mon let’s head back, it’s getting late.”

 

. . .

 

“I think I’d love him even if we weren’t soulmates,” he says quietly to his mama as he curls in his bed with Makkachin happily cuddled up next to him. “I don’t even know if I do love him yet or if I’m just falling so fast I can’t tell the difference.”

His mama hums and he shifts into a more comfortable position. “I’m glad he makes you happy, Vitya. That’s all your papa and I have ever wanted for you.”

He smiles even though she can’t see it and scratches Makkachin behind her ears to distract himself from the swell of emotion in his chest. “I know,” he whispers.

When she speaks next, he thinks he hears the smile in her voice, “When will you bring him to meet us? From what you’ve told us of him the skating interviews we’ve seen don’t do him justice.”

He laughs then and barely remembers to muffle it against the palm of his hand so he didn’t wake anyone named Yuri in the onsen. “No, they definitely don’t,” he agrees once his laughter settles. “And I’m not sure. I hope before next season starts but I don’t want to overwhelm him either.”

She hums again, thoughtful this time. “That’s fair. I’m glad you two were able to work through things and that’s enough for now I suppose.”

A smile pulls at his lips and this time he hums because there aren’t enough words in the three languages he knows to describe how impossibly happy he is. “I should sleep, it’s late here but tell papa I said hello.”

“Of course I will, he’ll be upset he missed getting to talk to you so make sure to call him in a few days. Sweet dreams, solnyshko.”

And he does. Dream sweetly that is, curled next to Makkachin and down the hall from the very man who’s quickly becoming the most important person in his life.

 

. . .

 

“You know, you asked me to be your coach at the banquet,” he says casually as they take a quick break while the triplets chase Yura around the rink.

Yura’s making a big show to yell (though thankfully keeping his language kid friendly) and tell them to stop but he remains on the ice instead of slinking to the safety of the locker rooms. He’s tempted to record this and upload it to Instagram but he’d rather live to see another day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuuri nearly slip and fall. “I asked you _what_?”

And he can’t help but laugh when he turns to steady Yuuri because honestly, the look on his face is too precious. “After the pole dancing with Chris, you threw your arms around me, said we should come here to Hasetsu and that I should coach you instead. Ask Yura he was right there and promptly yelled at you for it. Though I don’t know what you said back because you spoke Japanese but it was quite funny to see Yura’s face get all red like that.”

About ten different emotions seem to flicker in Yuuri’s eyes and he can’t pinpoint a single one, unfortunately. “I’m so sorry.”

He stares, not at all surprised by Yuuri’s unnecessary apology, before trying to stitch his thoughts together in a way that’ll make sense when he actually tries to articulate them. “There’s no need for that,” he says quietly. “I would coach you, you know, if you asked me again. Though preferably sober.”

The small smile his teasing draws out of Yuuri is worth it.

“What? Really?”

He nods and gently pulls Yuuri’s hands into his own because not touching Yuuri right in this moment was too impossible. “You’re a beautiful skater, Yuuri. And I know Celestino never let you reach your true potential because if he had I wouldn’t have always stood at the top of the podium.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen at that and he tries to pull his hands away but this time Viktor doesn’t let him, just squeezes them to hopefully convey the seriousness of his words. “Just think about it,” he murmurs. “You want to keep skating right?”

At this point, he can finally pick out the conflict in Yuuri’s eyes and he hopes he can at least help his soulmate work through that particular emotion. “But what about you? Don’t you want to keep skating?” Yuuri asks.

He does, mostly so he can skate with Yuuri for as long as possible but also because the ice is starting to feel like somewhere he belongs again. “I do and if you ask me to be your coach we’ll make it work. I’m not sure exactly how yet but it won’t be impossible.”

They’re silent for a while and he thinks Yuuri’s about to ask him again when the girls, quickly followed by Yura, barrel into them and suddenly the six of them are sprawled across the ice. It takes all of two seconds before Yuuri’s laughing from the bottom of the pile. “Sorry Uncle Yuuri!” the girls chime in unison as they all scramble back to their feet.

“Did you try to speed skate again?”

They nod and he can’t help but chuckle at how nothing seems to phase them. “Yurio said he was faster than us so we had to prove him wrong but then we went too fast!”

Yura grumbles then and crosses his arms with a big huff. “They’re little demons is what they are. How are they so fast? They’re only six!”

Loop (maybe? He still can’t really tell them apart yet even with the color coding) sticks out her tongue which sets Yura off, shouting this time in Russian which seems to make the girls laugh. “Alright, Yura’s break is over!” he says and does nothing to suppress the fond look that’s no doubt taken over his expression. “He needs to work on his step sequence and spins some more.”

The three girls pout but skate over to their father on the other side of the rink anyway and step off the ice. Yura only looks mildly annoyed now rather than murderous like he did before the ‘break’. “Like I’m going to listen to you when it comes to spins,” he barks as he turns to look at Yuuri. “C’mon Katsudon!”

Yuuri shoots him an amused look over his shoulder as he follows.

He feigns being hurt by Yura’s words which only gets him an eye roll. This isn’t what he pictured his life would look like after meeting his soulmate, there isn't as much cuddling, no sweet kisses, no forgetting the rest of the world exists as they get lost in each other's eyes.

It’s better.

 

. . .

 

He’s pulled from his light doze by Yuuri cursing under his breath in Japanese. As he blinks back awake he looks up to see an adorable pinched expression on his soulmate’s face as he clearly tries to beat something in whatever game he’s playing.

Carefully, he shifts his book on his chest so the pages don’t get ripped or folded by accident but somehow Yuuri manages to catch his movement anyway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Yuuri murmurs as if speaking any louder will break the moment they’ve found themselves in.

He smiles up at Yuuri sweetly as he reaches out to pet Makkachin who’s still asleep between them. Yuuri’s bed isn’t all that big but somehow they’ve managed to make it work. “It’s okay I hate falling asleep when I’m reading,” he says just as quietly. “I usually end up messing up the pages.”

Yuuri laughs and he swears the other man is looking at him with warm affection swirling in those beautiful honey brown eyes. “You snore you know,” he says and well that's not what he expected at all.

He blinks up at Yuuri owlishly which only causes the other man to laugh a little harder. “I do not!” he finally gasps when he remembers how to speak.

“You do! But I promise they’re very cute snores. I can barely hear them, I swear,” Yuuri says and his smile is fond and he’s a weak, weak man so he simply pouts.

“So cruel to your own soulmate,” he huffs but a smile tugs at his lips as he curls forward until his forehead rests against Yuuri’s hip. “Go on, play your game I’ll just lay here and wallow.”

Yuuri snorts above him but a moment later he can hear Yuuri’s thumbs tapping against the buttons. He loves it when they spend their evenings like this, quiet and content to just be without the pressures of having to fill the silence with conversation.

He’s always hated the quiet, always thought in silence he would find himself analyzed and deemed unworthy so he’s always made sure to keep it at bay whenever he can. But he’s been here at Yuuri’s home for a month now, Yura has come and gone (though the teen still sends him texts about how he can’t believe Viktor is making him skate to love of all things) and they’ve settled into a routine.

Explore Hasetsu by day, skate after dinner until the sun sinks below the horizon and then come back to the onsen to hang out in either of their rooms until they can’t keep their eyes open.

Yuuri only grows more beautiful each day.

He’s well on his way to dozing off again when he hears the quiet snap of Yuuri’s DS and feels fingers card through his hair. “Viktor?”

Even though he’s extremely comfortable and Yuuri’s fingers are coaxing him into a deeper sleep he hums to let the other man know he’s awake enough to process whatever he wants to say. “I’m going to tell them tomorrow,” he whispers.

And that immediately has him awake.

His eyes snap open and he scrambles to sit up because he has to look at Yuuri while he says this. He hasn’t pressed Yuuri on why he hasn’t told his family yet that they are soulmates (though by now he thinks they suspect as much) and even though he still feels a little hurt by that fact he’s also been around Yuuri and his family long enough to know there’s a reason behind the secrecy.

He isn’t sure what to say and Yuuri seems to pick up on that as he fidgets with the blanket draped over both their laps. “I probably should have...told you this a while ago and please know I never, I didn’t mean to hurt you by not saying anything to them.”

The fidgeting gets worse and he reaches out to grab Yuuri’s hands to still them. “I’ll admit, it was upsetting to have Mari look at me and not understand who you are to me and who I am to you when I first showed up but I promise it doesn’t bother me as much now as it did then,” he says gently because Yuuri deserves the truth, always deserves the truth even if it makes him want to curl into himself and hide.

Yuuri shoots him a strained smile. “I’m glad that it doesn’t but you still deserve to know why,” he murmurs.

He squeezes Yuuri’s hands then because it’s all he can think of to do. “Okay,” he says and hopes it sounds encouraging enough to soothe some of Yuuri’s nerves.

“Mari met her soulmate when she was nineteen,” Yuuri begins and his heart sinks immediately. “They were totally smitten with each other and even though he lived in Fukuoka he always made sure to visit at least twice a month. She loved him.”

Silence wraps around them again as Yuuri takes a deep breath before continuing, “A year after they met he started coming less and less until he just stopped showing up at all. Mari went to confront him and that’s when she found out.”

He closes his eyes at this point because he already has a feeling he knows what Yuuri’s about to say next. Has heard and seen it happen more times than anyone wants to admit.

“He fell in love with a girl who had grey Words. Fell in love with her and didn’t even spare my sister another thought. She tried to hide how hurt she was when she came back and told us but we knew. And ever since then…” Yuuri trails off then to take a shaky breath. “Ever since then I swore if I ever met my soulmate I would wait until I could trust they wouldn’t leave me the same way. I couldn’t...I didn’t want to get their hopes up.”

A few tears fall down Yuuri’s cheeks and he reaches up to brush them away. “Or yours?” he asks quietly because he thinks he hears the underlying meaning but needs to be sure.

The tears fall faster and Yuuri nods. “Mari’s stronger than me, she’s happier now but,” he whispers, “if you - if you leave me the way he did I don’t think I can handle it. And that’s before I knew it was _you_. Once you said my Words I knew it would be worse because...because I’ve looked up to you for so long.”

Oh, Yuuri.

“I can’t...I can’t promise we’ll live happily ever after,” he says because as much as he’d like to make that very promise neither of them can. “But I _can_ promise I will never do something like that to you. I hope you know that and if you don’t, I hope I can prove it to you, one day.”

He prays that was the right thing to say because he’s still new to navigating Yuuri’s anxiety and the last thing he wants to do is make it worse.

Relief slams against him the moment he sees Yuuri smile. “I know you won’t,” he murmurs and blinks away the last of his tears. “That’s why I want to tell them. I almost told them right after we talked on the beach but I wanted to keep you to myself a little longer.”

At that, he’s unable to contain himself and swoops in to kiss away the last of the tears lingering on Yuuri’s cheeks. “What am I going to do with you Yuuri?” he whispers, his voice laden with affection as he kisses Yuuri’s temple. “If you keep saying things like that my heart is going to burst.”

Yuuri sighs and shifts until he’s settled himself in Viktor’s lap. He doesn’t say anything just moves to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders until the other man’s face is tucked into the crook of his neck. They stay like that for a while, content to just stay wrapped up in each other’s arms but eventually, Yuuri starts to drift off and grows heavy against him.

Slowly, he tries to shift Yuuri but the movement apparently wakes the other man up enough for him to murmur, “No, stay,” against his collarbone, breath tickling his skin.

His heart aches but in a good way that leaves him feeling like he’s soaring above the ice. “Okay,” he whispers and keeps his arms wrapped around Yuuri as he rearranges them so they’re laying down in the bed properly with a Makkachin shaped ball of fluff at their feet. “Goodnight, solnyshko.”

Yuuri presses a feather-light kiss to his Words.

 

. . .

 

He’s pulled from his pleasant dream to fingers running through his hair. And oh how he could get used to waking up just like this. Eventually, he forces his eyes to open so he can witness a freshly woken Yuuri and he’s not disappointed by the adorable picture the other man paints.

Yuuri’s leaning over him slightly, glasses nowhere to be found and his hair is sticking up in almost every imaginable direction but Viktor swears he’s never seen anyone more beautiful.

“You stayed.”

He smiles and reaches up to brush some of Yuuri’s hair back because the need to touch this gorgeous man is too much for him to resist. “You asked,” he replies simply.

Yuuri smiles and his heart flutters at the sight of it because Yuuri looks _happy_. “I did,” he agrees and grabs Viktor’s hand to lace their fingers together. “Breakfast will be done soon and we should probably let Makkachin out too.”

At the sound of her name, his darling puppy pokes her head up from where she had managed to burrow herself under the covers and gives them a lopsided smile. He chuckles at the sight of her and feels warm all over and not just because the sun has started to creep through Yuuri’s windows either. “You ready?” he asks as he looks back to Yuuri.

And of course his smart, brilliant and amazing soulmate picks up on what he’s really asking. The smile turns soft now and Viktor doesn’t catch a hint of fear or nerves lurking in Yuuri’s eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I am.”

A few minutes later they make their way downstairs and Makkachin wastes no time to rush towards the door. Most of the guests are still waking up themselves and so it’s nearly silent as they let the poodle dart out onto the freshly dewed grass and immediately start rolling around.

“She’s a ridiculous dog,” Yuuri says. “Just like her owner.”

He clutches his heart dramatically which earns him a light slap on the arm from Yuuri who just rolls his eyes with what he’s learning is fond exasperation. “Don’t you dare try to deny how ridiculous you are,” Yuuri says lightly as his eyes track Makkachin across the yard. “Your theme the year after that Rhianna song came out was ‘radiance’ just so you had an excuse to wear the sparkliest costumes possible. You were going on twenty-four, Viktor. _Twenty-four_ and you looked like were bedazzled. ”

Laughter spills from his lips until he can hardly breathe because _of course_ Yuuri knew what exactly had given him the inspiration for that particular theme.

Yuuri just shoots him another exasperated look but the smile at the corners of his lips ruins the effect until he’s laugh along as well. Once they’ve settled down they realize they’re not alone anymore and he turns to find Toshiya beaming at them. “I just came to let you know breakfast is ready. Take your time though, boys!”

And just as quickly as Yuuri’s father appeared he’s gone again.

Yuuri’s still trying to stifle his laughter behind his hand. And he’s so in love with this man it makes him want to sing and weep and shout all at the same time because he never realized you could feel this happy, didn’t think human hearts were capable of feeling this much for one person.

“You still watched me even though I looked ridiculous,” he says as he pulls Yuuri into his arms.

Yuuri drops his hand so it’s resting on his shoulder and takes a step closer. “I did,” he murmurs and he’s so close that Viktor can’t help the way his gaze drifts down to Yuuri’s lips. “And I still bought your posters from that season too even though your smile was wrong.”

“It was?” he asks, breathless and frozen where he stands.

Yuuri nods and moves his other hand to the nape of his neck, playing with the silver strands there. “Mhmm,” he hums and moves until their foreheads are touching and he can feel Yuuri’s breath caress his lips. “It’s much more beautiful when it’s real.”

He’s not sure who moves first but it doesn’t matter because Yuuri’s lips are warm and soft against his own and his heart’s racing in his chest. It doesn’t register with him that anyone can walk by at any moment and interrupt them because his whole world’s narrowed down to just the two of them. And if Yuuri thinks he could ever leave him this he’ll just have to kiss him every morning when he wakes up and every night before he falls asleep to wash away his fear.

And as Yuuri deepens the kiss and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat that has them pressing closer he finds he wants to do just that regardless.

When Yuuri pulls away, breathless and beautiful with his pink stained cheeks Viktor does nothing to stop the wide, beaming smile that pulls at his lips. And even though Yuuri’s flush deepens he returns the smile without any hesitation.

The blush combined with the smile makes it impossible for him not to shower those beautiful cheeks with at least a dozen kisses and so he gives into his desires and lavishes Yuuri’s cheeks with soft kisses. Yuuri laughs and squirms in his arms and puts up a show of trying to escape the attention but Viktor knows both of them are finally right where they want to be.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap on this crazy soulmate au journey that I've spent the last two months writing, editing and finally getting the courage to post. 
> 
> I am working on a companion piece to this fic done in Yuuri's POV because seriously, there are _so_ many scenes I wanted to write and include in this fic but they would've interrupted the flow. So, please do let me know if that's something you'd like to see since right now I'm mostly writing it for myself and my friend Jordyn (who's been my biggest cheerleader for this fic/au of mine). 
> 
> Feel free to find me on tumblr at [ofviktor](http://ofviktor.tumblr.com/). My ask is always open to anyone who wants to cry and flail over these beautiful characters and show. <3
> 
> . . .  
>    
> Translations: 
> 
> **あなたは怒っている子猫のように見えます。** "You look like an angry kitty."
> 
>  **私は怒った子猫を言っていませんでしたか？** "Did I not say an angry kitty?"
> 
>  **О, нет, я тоже забыл русский?** "Oh, no, I forgot Russian too?"
> 
> (Also fun note, that little bit of the fic is actually based off one time my cousin and I drank a little too much and he was honestly worried he forgot how to speak Spanish, I was freaking laughing so hard I was crying haha.)


End file.
